The Foul Team
by freudwithwings
Summary: Hired by the LEP as a consultant, Artemis finds himself at the centre of a growing crisis. He was right: human children ARE getting smarter. Episode 2.03: In which Christmas is ruined, the worst-case scenario game is played, and Tweedir finally makes a friend. Post TLG!
1. 101: A Single Gold Coin

**(Disclaimer: This entire fic takes place following the events of _The Last Guardian_, and so carries suitable spoiler warnings!) **

-x-

**EPISODE 1.01: A SINGLE GOLD COIN**

_An in-and-out surveillance job becomes something much bigger when it turns out Becquerel Jones knows about the People. In response, the LEP takes a massive risk._

-x-

"Why am I inclined to doubt that this is going to be as simple as you say?"

"Bit late for second thoughts now, Fowl. You went over the data with me, remember? We need a human face on the ground. No other way to go about this - you saw the files. Now shut up, ring the doorbell, and - for Frond's sake - slouch a little bit more. You're in America, after all."

"Holly, can you remind the centaur that this is not the first time I've gone undercover?"

The question was met with a snort on the other end of the line. "Arty, I'm only here in case the universe remembers how much bad karma you've got. Never thought I'd say this, but Foaly's right - shut up and ring the doorbell."

"Why, thank you, Holly." From his seat in the communications booth belowground, Foaly sounded appropriately smug. Artemis could easily visualize Holly's exasperated face, and the image made him grin as he shut up and rang the doorbell.

To say there was something unnerving about Artemis Fowl's grin would be an understatement. It would be closer to the truth to acknowledge that there was something unnerving about Artemis Fowl II. A pale young man with blue eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses and an oversized pair of headphones perched atop his raven hair, Artemis had reluctantly agreed to trade his typical tailored suit for a baggy hoodie and blue jeans. A pair of brand new and expertly aged sneakers were already making his feet ache, the six toes on his right foot crammed into a space intended for five. The only remaining piece of his usual attire hung around his neck: a gold coin with a perfect hole in the center, neatly strung on a sturdy cord.

Needless to say, Artemis Fowl would not be willing to put up with such discomfort if something incredibly important had not been at stake. Important to a friend.

He'd gotten the call a week ago.

During a routine scan of human communications, a teenager by the name of Becquerel Jones had set off a startling number of flags in Foaly's surveillance systems. The cause itself had been benign, yet Foaly trusted his operating systems, and it had been enough to get the paranoid part of his brain ticking. A year following the near discovery of the People in the aftermath of the Great Techno-Crash, the Lower Elements Police were operating under strict orders: no human contact was to be instigated for any reason. It simply presented too much danger. Foaly had a hunch, however, and his attempts to direct further LEP resources towards surveillance of the Jones's residence had been met with talk of budget cuts and unacceptable risks. Simply put, the centaur needed more information.

It had been Holly to suggest reaching out to Artemis. After all, resurrecting an old contact did not count as defying orders - at least, not while operating under any standard definition of "instigation." She always had been good at finding loopholes.

Even more conspicuous than his altered wardrobe was the absence of Butler, Artemis's bodyguard and oldest friend. Upon receiving Foaly's request, the Irish genius had made an executive decision: He had given his friends and family enough to worry about, over the last year, to last them through several lifetimes. By blaring loud classical music in his study and setting up a looped surveillance tape, he intended to be home before he was missed. It was not out of habit for him to spend days at a time absorbed in some project or other, and he typically did not tolerate disruption while in such a state. The odds were excellent that he would be back on Irish soil before anybody worked up the courage to pry open his study door.

After all, from Dublin to Denver was typically a ten hour flight. Artemis made it in six. He had departed as dusk was falling over Ireland, and upon touching down in a neglected airstrip he'd had to adjust his course to avoid being blinded by the late-afternoon Colorado sun.

Now Holly whispered into the line, his headphones serving a dual purpose. A tad conspicuous for his tastes but they had been Foaly's idea. "Okay, Artemis. We're going silent now. You remember the signals, right? If you need help, I'm ten minutes away. Which means you need to call _before_ you need me, not after. Get in, plant the bugs, get out. Be careful."

"Of course," Artemis murmured, his lips not moving.

She didn't reply. A second later, Becquerel Jones opened the door. While no images had been available online of the American teen, the boy was the correct age. It was confirmed when he spoke, his voice matching the one on the other end of their phone conversation several hours before. "Hey, it's Alex, right? From the paper, that interview thing? Talking to local teenagers about the new school they're opening up, or something?"

"That's right."

"Sweet, man. Come right in."

Becquerel Jones was the sort of teenager who spent a lot of time trying to look effortlessly cool. Today he had dressed in a t-shirt that loudly proclaimed the name of some band, a relaxed pair of blue jeans held up around his hips with a knotted leather cord, a battered pair of trainers, and a single solid black bracelet wrapped around his right wrist. His auburn hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and Artemis noted that one shoelace was untied.

Artemis stepped over the threshold, eyes darting across the hallway to linger on any important features of architecture, any potential surveillance points, entrances and exits. Back in the communications booth, Foaly grumbled over the tint his sunglasses passed on to the iris cam image.

"Sweet set-up you've got here. That some kinda sound system?" He gestured upwards to the camera mount. Becquerel's eyes followed his pointing finger, and Artemis took the opportunity. His other hand pressed a tiny microphone - no larger than the head of a pin - onto the doorframe.

"Of course. And you don't have to call yourself Alex, y'know. It's fine." A deliberate pause. "Artemis Fowl the Second. I understand."

Holly blanched. "D'Arvit - !"

"Wait," Foaly shot back. "We send you in, the entire situation is blown. A whole retrieval team will need to clean this up. Let's see if Mud Boy talks his way out of this."

Holly folded her arms across her chest, ignoring the desire to shut off the link with Foaly and activate her wings, listening instead as the situation developed. For a moment, Artemis's signal was blocked out by static as the genius removed his headphones to leave them slung around his neck. No distractions. When the line cleared once more, Becquerel was speaking again.

"Look, dude. Don't play dumb. It's insulting to both of us. There are only so many kids in the world who've got our brains. You thought I wouldn't have gone down the list, sussed out the competition? Please. Give me some credit."

Artemis lifted his head, rolled his shoulders back, straightened out his spine. Dropped the act. When he spoke once more, his voice was layered with ice. Even from that distance, it sent shivers down Holly's spine. "Fair enough."

"At least tell me you did your homework, too?"

"Of course. Becquerel Jones. The youngest of two children, the only one in your family to exhibit such an abnormally high IQ. Born solidly middle-class, you proved yourself such an adept at predicting the stock market that you were arrested at nine years of age under suspicion of fraud. The charges were cleared two weeks later and your family kept the money. And then, nothing. You dropped off the map completely. So, Becquerel, you tell me: Exactly what have you been up to?"

"In all that reading, you see anything about Elizabeth?"

"Your sister? Yes, I read about that. My sympathies. If now were an appropriate time to inquire about her health, rest assured I would." Artemis narrowed his eyes, inadvertently causing the iris cam to spark. A tear sprung to his eye, and he spared a thought to be grateful that his sunglasses hid it.

"Then you know what I've been up to, because I think you're tangled up in it, too." Becquerel grinned. "The magic."

A pin could have dropped. Holly swore once more under her breath, rising to her feet and activating her wings.

"Holly -" Foaly warned. She ignored him, leaping to the sky to let the wings carry her forward.

Artemis was talking again. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, please, Art - is it okay if I call you Art? - Like I said, don't play dumb. You came in here disguised, fair enough, I might've tried the same thing. But now that it's clear we understand each other, man, trust me: honesty is really the best policy. Don't screw with me, and I won't screw with you. Respect's got to run on both sides. Not often I get to talk to somebody who can keep up, you know. I think we can really help each other out. The magic. You know it exists."

"As I said," repeated Artemis in his darkest voice, "I'm sure I have no idea."

"Let's go over what I know about you, then, shall we? The only child in an extraordinarily wealthy family, father went AWOL, mother went around the bend, fortune went down the tube, and then what?" Bec snapped his fingers. "Suddenly, poof. It all got better."

"I assure you there was nothing magical about -"

"Even if there wasn't, you can't tell me you don't have a bit of a habit of dropping off the face of the earth for months at a time? Even years?" Bec shrugged. "That wouldn't have aroused much suspicion by itself. I mean, let's face it, your family isn't exactly going to win any citizen of the year awards. But then you came back, didn't look a day older, and nobody bothered to ask where you went? Fishy, Art. Very, very fishy."

"I understand why you are delusional," said Artemis. "You are clinging to any hope of a cure for your sister's condition. A sprinkling of fairy dust, perhaps, and suddenly she will walk again? Admirable, yet deluded."

"Cut the act. You and I both know you're here because you found out what I've got and you're crapping your drawers. Probably aiming for some kind of Nobel Prize or something, thinking you can prove the existence of the People. Biggest discovery of the century. Came here to see what's up."

"Highly unlikely. However, if a word of what you said were true, how would you recommend I proceed in this scenario?"

Becquerel grinned once more, confident. "Your call. Turn around and go home, and I won't mind. Hell, won't even call you on bringing surveillance equipment and recording devices into my house without permission."

"The alternative?"

"You take off those headphones, shut down whatever camera you've got hidden in your pocket, and see how far the rabbit hole goes. I could care less about the prizes, it's not like there's a finder's fee on this stuff. Would even be willing to split the recognition, if you could let me know I'm on the right track." He paused. "Assuming you got that rabbit reference, man. I'm sure somebody of your ambition may consider fiction to be a waste of time, in which case I totally apologize."

Artemis paused, seeming to consider the offer. Finally, he wound the headset cord around his thumb and forefinger in a loop to keep it tidy. "Alice in Wonderland. Carroll, 1865. And I suppose I've really got no option here, have I? If you have followed in the footsteps of many historical genii and allowed your intellect to drive you insane, as I suspect, then I can't in good conscience leave. And if there is even a grain of truth to your statements, it's worth my time to stay." As he pressed a button to kill the audio surveillance, he tapped the device two times. _Stay put_. The sound echoed.

Holly grit her teeth as she adjusted her altitude, the exact opposite of reassured. "Removed his wire. Awesome. Great. Exactly what we told him not to do. Of course."

"Holly -" began Foaly once more, his hooves drumming a staccato pattern on the tile floor of the communications booth. Anxious.

"No, no. It's fine. Just, when he gets out of there, I'm going to kill him."

-x-

Becquerel's laboratory was located down the hall, through a security-laden door, and up two flights of stairs. It was a bright and spacious room, with slanting ceilings and skylights that allowed the sun to shine through. There were posters tacked to the walls of various bands Artemis had never heard of - nor had he ever wanted to. A counter was built along the far wall, holding a collection of computer monitors, tablets, and other electronic devices. Along another wall was a steel-framed cabinet containing all manner of scientific apparati. Two desks stood side by side in the centre of the room, their surfaces covered with the innards of several disassembled hard drives.

Thus far the only alarming feature of the laboratory was its unkempt condition. Becquerel Jones clearly worked best in a state of controlled chaos, and it was enough to make the Irish genius's skin crawl. It was impossible to examine everything, so Artemis did not allow his gaze to linger on any particular feature, knowing the iris recording would be reviewed at a later time in great detail. An insignificant piece of evidence, one that required the connection to the People to be read into it, might easily have been left out in the open. Instead, Bec crossed the room to a small, black safe in the corner, blocking the door with his body as he keyed in a combination. The laptop he retrieved was sleek and silver, and potentially very dangerous.

He had to push away a mess of wires to make space for the laptop on the desk, and swiftly typed in a password before gesturing for Artemis to draw near. The background, Artemis noted as he moved to the young genius's side, was an illustration from Carroll's book. Rather than gravitating towards Tenniel's more popular illustrations, Becquerel apparently preferred the sketches created by Carroll's own hand to accompany the first draft of _Alice in Wonderland _- images which had never seen mass publication. _Interesting_. And then Bec had opened a new window and rows of numbers flooded the screen.

He stepped back, eyebrows raised, one hand stretched in an unconsciously dramatic manner to the laptop. Artemis stepped closer, bending down to examine the data while doing his best to feign disinterest. "Numbers," he said crisply, "You think numbers prove the existence of fairies?"

Bec wasn't fazed. "Go ahead, man. Take your time. Surely the great Artemis Fowl can figure out a spreadsheet."

The great Artemis Fowl already had an inkling, and the mere possibility was enough to worry him. "Satellite data," he admitted.

Bec typed a command into the keyboard; the screen split to display a second set of data. "And yet," he said, turning the screen back to his guest, "The numbers don't correlate with known records. Something is different. They've been hidden."

"Government agencies hide satellites all the time. This is nothing new."

"But these are not government satellites! Man, look, I've run the numbers a hundred times. They don't belong to any government - not that we know of - not human. The data signatures are way out of whack."

It _was_ evidence - cold, clear, factual evidence that any intelligent mind could interpret. Artemis could easily leave now and tell Holly to break in that night to destroy the information, but that was no assurance. He had to learn where Becquerel had found this data and ensure there would be no possible method of reproducing it. If Foaly's shields had been breached, the leak needed to be found. Above all else this had to be done properly, or it would come back to haunt them all.

"An interesting hypothesis," he finally acknowledged. "Quite the leap of logic, to take some odd numbers and infer the existence of magic. In the interest of _complete honesty_, where did you come up with this data?"

Bec raised a hand. "Information goes both ways, Art. Your turn. What do you have to share with me?"

Artemis was suddenly acutely aware of the coin - fairy gold - that had slipped from his shirt when bending over the laptop. He hadn't even noticed it, should have noticed it. In addition, his eye still stung from the iris cam hidden behind his sunglasses, and the wire in his headphones could easily be discovered.

"Rumours," he said at last, "That's all I've ever heard. Frankly, I wasted too much time on this search in my younger years. As you so kindly reminded me, my mother was ill. I became too caught up in a hope that did not exist, looking for an answer that simply was not there. My research was conclusive on that point: conspiracy theories, nothing more."

Bec stared hard at him. "I'd have an easier time of believing you if you took those glasses off."

"Excuse me?"

Bec paced to the end of the desk before turning to face Artemis. "Take off those sunglasses and tell me this data doesn't point towards the existence of another race."

"I do not appreciate the hostility."

"Nor do I," said Bec coldly.

Artemis reminded himself that the iris cam was invisible to any who weren't looking for it and reached up to remove the glasses from his face. With overt formality, he took his time folding the arms together before tucking the glasses into the pocket of his shirt.

"Your data is a dead end," he said flatly. "There is nothing there but make-believe and wishes. I suggest a return to reality if you wish to help her, Becquerel. My father's worked with excellent physical therapists, and I'm positive they could be persuaded to assist you."

He stared hard at the teen, doing his best to believe his own words in order to convince the other boy of their truth. Bec's expression was still but his eyes searching Artemis's face for any sign of the lie. It was Bec who looked away first, his eyes flickering down to the desk for an instant. It was enough.

"Are we done here?" Artemis asked.

Bec shrugged. "Sure thing, Art. Show yourself out."

Artemis stared at him a moment longer before turning away. There were still questions but at this point, it would be more productive for Holly to put the genius under a mesmer and follow up with a mind-wipe. He had more than enough information to justify any action Foaly proposed; now, it was simply a matter of reaching the rendezvous point to deliver the iris cam to Holly.

Behind him, a drawer scraped open. Something metallic clicked, and Artemis froze.

"That's fairy gold around your neck."

"You really have gone mad," Artemis said. It was as though he'd learned nothing about the ill effects of taunting those pointing a gun to his head despite the surprisingly large number of times he had, at one point or another, had a gun to his head. "You don't really expect to -"

The tranq dart hit him in the neck.

_That hasn't happened in a while_, he thought, and then the world went black.

-x-

Outside, Holly perched on the neighbor's mailbox and waited.

"Oh no," said Foaly.

"Patch me in, I need visuals. What's going on?" Every instinct she had was telling her to just enter the damn house already; her years of training forced her to wait.

"Oh no," Foaly repeated. "Mud Boy's a good shot."

"No, Artemis is an awful shot," Holly corrected automatically. A moment later her brain caught up, and her stomach dropped. "Oh, no."

"And we've lost visual," the centaur proclaimed.

-x-

Becquerel hadn't expected Artemis to go down so fast. Nor had he expected him to be quite so heavy, given the Irish genius's slender frame. It took more effort than expected to roll him on his back so Bec could retrieve the coin - obviously fairy gold, confirmed by Artemis's reaction to his accusation. Next were the pockets, empty save for the mirrored sunglasses and the cord to the headphones. There was a module in the right earpiece that Bec didn't have the time to dissect; he set it aside on the corner of his desk.

Artemis's eyes were still fluttering. Bec was ready to conclude that he'd found the only bugs when he noticed something about the left eye. Carefully, he lifted the eyelid to see that a contact lens had slipped to reveal the blue iris underneath. Only one eye. Odd.

Upon examination, the underside of the lens was coated with an incredibly fine layer of circuitry, too advanced for him to untangle with the naked eye, too delicate to be created by human hands. He turned back to his bench, hunting through another drawer for a vial of saline solution. Kept on-hand to flush dust from delicate hardware, it would do a decent job of preserving the lens.

Behind him, Artemis Fowl groaned into the floor. Further examination would have to wait.

Thankfully, maneuvering Artemis down the stairs was easy enough once gravity took over. Becquerel even muttered an apology for the bruises the sedated genius would likely discover upon waking, cringing as Artemis's head hit the last step with a particularly sharp thunk. Luckily for them both, the sedative held.

-x-

The maroon minivan peeled from the garage like a horse out of the gate, skidding as it turned from the front drive to meet the main road. Torn between worry and resignation, Holly kicked off from the mailbox to follow it. "You're sure Artemis is in the van?"

"I'm sure," Foaly neighed. A keyboard clicked in Holly's ear, and she could hear his hooves through the mike again as they beat a nervous tattoo on the floor. "Definitely two warm bodies in that vehicle. Fowl's alive, though his vitals are a bit wonky. Just be careful, Holly. This could be a trap."

"For who?" Holly asked dryly, "I'm invisible, right? You said the only thing Jones had was numbers."

"Satellite data," Foaly corrected. "Hidden satellites. _Our_ hidden satellites. If he can find those, he can find you."

"I've got my shield."

"You've also got fairy tech."

"But he's got Artemis, so there we go."

"Remind me again how you two haven't managed to get each other killed yet?" Foaly complained.

She was silent, and Foaly remembered.

"Admittedly, that was a poor choice of words. Fine. Go get our Mud Boy out of there."

-x-

A groan came from the back as Artemis stirred. Bec raised his eyes to the rear view mirror to see a hand reaching up, clutching at the leather for a grip as Artemis tried to pull himself up. "The trunk?" he groaned, "You - put me - in the - ?"

For an instant, Becquerel Jones wondered if his life had somehow become a zombie film. The top of a head showed over the seat, raven hair askew. Startled, Bec slammed his foot down on the brake. Artemis was thrown forward, bouncing off the seat and rebounding into the trunk door before sinking once more out of sight.

Bec whirled around, straining for any sign of Artemis. He was hidden behind the seat again and no longer making sounds.

_I've killed him. _No. No - he'd been knocked unconscious and would at worst suffer a concussion in addition to the effects of the tranq. _Unless the tranq's killed him - he's probably allergic - no, no. He's got to be okay. Right?_

And then the sound of retching started. For the first, last, and only time in his life, Becquerel was relieved to hear it.

It also gave him an idea, and as he merged onto the freeway he reached for his cell phone. "Hello, police? I'd like to report a disturbance."

-x-

The omnitool buzzed, and Artemis groaned from his spot on a cot. He hadn't moved since being placed in the precinct drunk tank, an exasperated pair of police officers assuming he needed to sleep off a particularly excessive binge. The only indication that Artemis was at all conscious came every time footsteps echoed through the hall - a wince, and an attempt to curl up a little bit more tightly. He hadn't even looked up when she called his name as loudly as she dared. Definitely not good.

It had been a long wait for the surveillance feed to be hacked and for the hallway to clear. This wait had been made even longer by having to listen to Foaly, who was in a state of blind panic.

"Butler's going to kill us," he whinnied for the sixth time in as many minutes.

"Yes, I know," she hissed, unshielding long enough to jam the sensor a little bit more fiercely against the lock. "I got that the first time you said it. Besides, you're safe in the communications booth. I'm the one who's got to deal with this mess, so just make sure the security loop stays steady. Last thing we need is an interspecies crisis because your weapons scanners failed to pick up a tranq dart."

"No, this is Butler we're talking about. I am definitely _not safe_ in the communications booth!"

Holly didn't dignify that with a response. The mechanism finally clicked; the cell door rattled open. Artemis flinched at the sound, finally twisting his neck in a feeble attempt to see what was happening. Even under the buzzing fluorescent lights, she knew he shouldn't be so green.

"Easy, Arty," she said, dropping her voice into a lower register in an attempt to be soothing. It didn't seem to matter much - Artemis's eyes crossed from trying to focus, and he gave up. Turned back to the wall, set his head back down with an apathetic mumble.

_Clone immune systems_, Holly knew. Foaly, after all, had frantically explained it several times over. Months ago, they had saved their friend's life. By using a strand of Artemis's DNA to clone him following his early demise, Holly and Foaly had been able to transplant his soul into the new body, effectively bringing him back from the dead. While infinitely better than the alternative, the process still had drawbacks. For instance, a clone grown over the course of six months in a lab lacked the usual chemical tolerances. Artemis never stood a chance - of course a typically harmless dose of sedative had made him violently ill.

"Too bad," she muttered to herself, knowing he was far from listening. "We've gotta get out of here anyways."

"Huh?"

_Artemis Fowl, reduced to monosyllables. Fantastic. Foaly's right - Butler really is going to kill us when he finds out_. "I said, we're getting you out of here. Already wiped your prints from the system. Can you sit up?"

"Oh."

To his credit, Artemis tried. His arms wobbled, though, and the room spun in time with the pounding in his head. She darted in, swearing under her breath, to catch him by the shoulder before he could tumble to the floor.

This was going to be a very, very long night.

-x-

Artemis swam through the muddled spiral of thoughts, slowly pulling himself towards consciousness. Even in this state, he recognized the cause as a heavy dose of tranquilizer - and what did that say about his life? He really needed to stop putting himself in these situations, if only because the customary post-tranquilizer headache interfered with his ability to properly think his way back towards coherence.

_No, that's not quite true_, he corrected. _The customary post-tranquilizer headache is nowhere near this severe_.

When he concentrated, he could hear the movements of others in the room. Breathing to his right, a rustle of fabric near his feet, a cough on the left. He waited, but no more information was forthcoming; finally Artemis cracked open one eye and took in the unfamiliar white ceiling.

And then Holly's face appeared in his line of vision. Even in his bleary state, he noted the hallmarks of exhaustion. "Good, you're awake. I should kill you."

Artemis frowned, squeezed his eye shut again, and wondered for one instant whether he'd actually woken up. "What… did I do this time?"

She shook her head in exasperation. On the left, Foaly piped up, a tinny quality to the centaur's voice belying an unstable video connection. "You've got quite the knockout cocktail in your blood," he began. "Not to mention, you were sporting a fantastic concussion for an hour or so back there."

Artemis let his mind wander back to his last memories before waking up. "Of course," he said, "The dart. He actually shot me."

He attempted to sit up, only to meet resistance at Holly's hands. "Yes, we noticed. And careful. Stay put for now, we don't need you toppling over. We've got time."

It was rather humiliating, he reflected, to be confined to bed rest after a mere tranquilizer dose, when in the past he'd shaken off similar effects in the midst of crises involving trolls and time travel. Artemis waited until the elf had moved away before struggling into a sitting position. It took more out of him than expected, confirmation that the clone body was no more resistant to a knockout drug than it was to the common cold. Still, he managed to prop himself up against the pillows, staring about the room.

He recognized it, now that he was able to see more than the ceiling. While this was his first stay, Artemis could place the set-up as the minimalist approach to decorating employed by all cheap motel rooms. On his left, the television displayed Foaly's face against the backdrop of his booth. And, at the other end of the room was the other person he had sensed upon regaining consciousness. Commander Kelp himself, seated at the desk and reading through a file on his hologram screen.

"Commander," Artemis said in surprise.

Kelp shut off his screen and turned in his chair to face the bed. "Fowl," he acknowledged.

The commander's tone of voice was foreboding. Artemis wondered whether he should begin putting together a defence - only he wasn't exactly clear on the accusation. There wasn't much sense in delaying, though. "I doubt you are here out of concern."

"You made a mess in there, Fowl," Kelp agreed. "We were lucky to get you out with minimal losses."

Artemis sat up straight. "Losses?"

"My surveillance equipment," Foaly bemoaned from the screen. "He even caught the iris cam! Luckily, I'd made sure every piece I gave you had the self-destruct enabled."

"Luckily," Kelp echoed.

Artemis was horrified. "Self-destruct? But that was in my eye!" And then, "How long before you activated the self-destruct? Did Jones have a chance to examine the equipment?"

The pause was not reassuring. It was Holly who answered at last. "We lost contact with you for a while before you were finally… escorted from the property. The moment it was clear the equipment was no longer in your possession, we activated the self-destruct, but there was a chunk of unaccounted time."

Artemis stared down at his hands, thinking hard. The others knew better than to interrupt. At last, he looked up again. "I expect you want a full debriefing, Commander?"

Kelp rose from his chair. "Actually, no. Holly, Foaly, if we could have a minute alone?"

_Oh no._

Foaly huffed a sigh and the screen cut to black. The room was stifling with apprehension as Holly rounded the bed on her way out of the room. She turned to flash a quick, reassuring smile before closing the door behind her; it did not fill Artemis with confidence.

Nor did Kelp's next words: "The Council has become aware of the situation, Fowl."

_They know_, Artemis thought numbly, _They've figured out that I'm a clone. Cloning is illegal and despite my past actions - or possibly because of them - the Council is going to - _Only, he couldn't actually figure out just what the Council would do. He rather doubted they would kill him, and Foaly was too important to the LEP to place in jail. Or so he hoped.

Kelp was still talking. "Fowl, I'm going to be blunt. Last time you were involved in anything even remotely tangential to LEP business, half the world blew up."

"I thought it was decided that I was not at fault?"

"Oh, it was. But this sort of thing happens around you a lot, and let me tell you, we've got rooms full of sprites dealing with the resulting paperwork. A bureaucratic nightmare, Fowl. Hundreds of man-hours. Thousands of them. Enough to make a troll sob for his mommy."

"I thought trolls ate their mothers?"

"Oh, they do. So no, Fowl, this isn't a job offer. It's a demand." Kelp threw down a single acorn badge onto the blanket that covered Artemis's legs. "Foaly's got a security breach, we need it found, and we need to keep an eye on you. Frankly, I doubt you'll stop being involved in LEP affairs any time soon, so you may as well fall under some kind of jurisdiction." More carefully, he lifted a bundle that had been sitting on the desk, pulling away the cloth to reveal a small, silver neutrino. "Unfortunately, this comes with the territory, too. Standard issue, even for consultants."

Artemis side-eyed the gun, his head still spinning. "And what, exactly, am I supposed to do with that?"

"I don't care what the hell you do. Hopefully this won't need to be a lasting arrangement. Find the security breach, make sure it doesn't happen again, and above all else..." Kelp heaved a sigh. "Just do your own damn paperwork next time."

-x-

Upon re-entering the room, Holly did not bother asking what had been discussed. She merely saw the Neutrino in Artemis's lap, registered the potential disaster, and took action. In one swift movement the weapon was pried from Artemis's loose grip, the charge packs removed, and the body of the gun tucked against her belt for safekeeping.

"Excuse _me_!"

She quirked an eyebrow in a manner that reminded Artemis strongly of himself. "Do you really want to have this discussion now, Fowl? Because we can. I've had a long night. Let's have this discussion now." She bared her teeth.

"There's nothing to discuss - that was mine!" he protested. Not the most eloquent argument, but he supposed he could be excused, given the circumstances.

It cut no ice with the elf, who promptly shot a glare across the room. "Commander, can you explain what's going on here?"

"Yeah, I'm a bit worried, too," piped up Foaly, who had reappeared on the screen. "Who thought it was a good idea to arm the civilian Mud Boy?"

"Not a civilian any more," Trouble explained. "Foaly, you dropped the ball on this one. We made the executive call - until this mess is straightened out, Fowl's a consultant for the LEP. He'll be going over every inch of your system with a fine-toothed comb until we sort out where those satellite numbers came from."

"You're going to give him free reign?" Holly yelped. "Doesn't that strike you as a bit...I don't know, irresponsible?"

"Well, I could tell you my solution to that problem, but you won't like it."

"Tell me anyways," Holly said.

Trouble told her. She didn't like it.

Neither did Artemis. "I don't need to be babysat, especially not by Holly. I am not a child," he said indignantly, turning his coldest glare on the room.

"You don't get a vote." The other three voices in the room spoke as one.

"Though for the record, I agree with Artemis," Holly said, her arms folded across her chest. "As usual, he's right: I don't need to be babysitting him."

A thud sounded from the hall. Artemis glanced to the door. "You couldn't have found a quieter motel?"

"I was more preoccupied with getting us out of sight," Holly responded sharply.

Another thud, closer this time. Artemis had heard the sound before. "Holly -"

The next time, the sound was close enough to make out. It was surprisingly distinct, the crack of a heavy boot coming into contact with a door that wasn't all too keen on staying closed. In an instant, Holly and Kelp had both drawn their weapons and leveled them to the door.

"Arty, get down," Holly warned.

The door crashed open. There, towering in the space, was a mountain - or rather, a man shaped like a mountain.

With a click, Foaly disappeared from the screen in the corner.

"Butler!" Artemis exclaimed as guiltily as if he had been caught sneaking out in the middle of the night. Which, technically speaking, he had.

The bodyguard had frozen, his firearm still raised as he took in the scene. Neither of the fairies had lowered their neutrinos, unwilling to give in until they were sure the Mud Man meant them no harm.

His eyes centred on Artemis, still weak and bleary-eyed, dressed in a graphic t-shirt, his hair limp and sticking to his forehead. "I know you're not going to believe me," he said with an anxious glance to the empty screen in the corner, "But this was undeniably Foaly's fault."

"Absolutely," Holly seconded.

"As Commander, I can confirm these statements," added Kelp. "Definitely the centaur's fault."

Butler stared wide-eyed between the three of them, chest heaving as he processed the situation. Then, at last, he lowered his gun. "I presume," he said forcibly, "That means as soon as you explain exactly what's going on here, someone's cutting his budget?"

-x-

Next Time:

_EPISODE 1.02: CULTURE SHOCK - The Foul Team is established and receives its first real job._

-x-

_**Author's Notes:**_

So it turns out that Foaly was right after all: he is _not safe _in the communications booth! And Holly was right, too: the universe hasn't forgotten exactly how much bad karma Artemis is carrying. Not yet, at least. (Though if it's any reassurance, we promise Arty won't be so helpless all the time!)

I suppose this is the place to warn you: This fic is going to be long. To give you some idea, our outline currently sits at 20K and sketches out the course of twenty-one episodes. This is only the first one, so that should give you some idea of the scope we're aiming for!

As far as division of labour goes, this episode was a fairly even split. Most of it was written in collaboration, though the scene where Artemis wakes up in the motel room was all Winged, and I was responsible for the introduction of Becquerel Jones. Winged also did the majority of the fact-checking, though if the time zones are wrong that is entirely my own fault.

Thank you so much for reading - we hope to have more posted for you soon! -Freud

Freud's referring to "episodes" because originally, we started out with a rough outline of a television show - three seasons long - following the characters after the events of the books. It's a series we'd both love to watch so, failing that, we're writing it instead and sticking (as best we can) to the format.

Also, if you enjoy this you may like to take a look at our other AF collab, Schrödinger's Zombie. It's our attempt at expanding the last chapter of the final book in the series. We're considering SZ as a part of the same 'verse as Foul Team, with elements such as the clone immune system originating there.

One last thing - you can't imagine the number of texts we've sent to each other over this. The sheer number! Point of the matter being we really, really hope you enjoy reading this as much as we enjoy creating it.

Cheers! - Winged


	2. 102: Culture Shock

EPISODE TWO: CULTURE SHOCK

_The Foul Team is established and receives its first real job. _

-x-

There are some forces in this world that it is impossible to account for. Artemis had known for years that Holly Short was one of them, and was rapidly coming to the realization that he really should have added his younger brothers to the list the day that he found out they existed.

At least, he reflected with a grimace, Holly knew perfectly well that a locked study door meant, "Keep Out." Myles and Beckett Fowl merely took it as a challenge. Both twins displayed an exceptional knack for creative problem-solving, especially given their age: in a frantic attempt to avoid a set bedtime they had unanimously decided to take refuge in their brother's study, locked door or not. As Myles had attempted to bypass the security keypad Artemis had set up as a safeguard against exactly this scenario, Beckett had simply found a suitably pointed fountain pen nib and used it as a screwdriver to remove the hinges from the door. Thus, two and a half hours after Artemis left for Denver, his absence was discovered.

At moments like this, Artemis almost felt sorry for his parents. When he had been five, he had confined his schemes to a purely theoretical realm. Beckett and Myles clearly had no such intent.

Not that pointing this out would help Artemis much in this particular situation.

"Son," said Artemis Sr, seated with his hands folded on the desk in front of him, "You made a poor decision today."

So it was going to be one of _those_ talks, then. He wished his head didn't still hurt quite so badly - the residual ache from the sedative made it very difficult to think clearly. Even the low light cast by the lamp over the desk made his vision waver. For the first time in his life, Artemis was experiencing something extremely akin to a hangover and (also perhaps for the first time in his life) he was discovering in much the same manner as his peers that the sensation was not a pleasant one. That was the problem with firsthand experience: it required actual experience.

"I don't understand," said Angeline Fowl, from her seat at her husband's side. "Arty, this kind of bad judgement - it's just not like you."

"I had my reasons," he answered stiffly. It was easier to address his response to his father, who narrowed his eyes.

"Presumably, those reasons did not include a desire to worry your mother and myself? Artemis, when we saw you were gone, we knew any number of things could have happened to you. We were lucky Butler kept a cool head and traced you to Denver."

"A friend called in a favour on short notice, and I did not intend to be missed. And I do apologize for causing you that distress. It will not happen again."

For a long moment, the study was silent.

"This friend," Angeline said, finally. "Arty, would I be far off the mark if I asked if Holly was involved in this?"

"A girl?" Artemis Sr looked to his wife, who shrugged demurely, waiting for her son to answer.

Even in his dulled state, the eldest Fowl son was fully aware that there was no safe response to this question. He had, after all, promised his mother complete honesty. He owed her that much. "Yes, that would be an accurate assumption. Holly requested my help in resolving a minor surveillance problem."

"You snuck out of the house and flew yourself to America to meet up with a girl?"

"In so many words, father, yes, though I assure you -"

"You really are a chip off the old block. Angeline, do you remember how we met?" Fowl Sr leaned forwards in his chair, intently studying his son's pale face. "Not to trivialize the grave nature of what has happened here today, of course," he quickly amended, feeling his wife's glare.

"I think what your father means to say," said Angeline, "Is that regardless of your reasoning, you still made a choice that exposed you to unnecessary risk and caused us worry."

"I truly am sorry, mother," replied Artemis, finally making eye contact. "As stated, it was not my intent."

"I'm sure this will be water under the bridge, given time," said Fowl Sr, still trying (and failing) to hide a sudden surge of pride in his son. "After all, the important thing is that nobody was harmed. I am a bit ashamed, Arty, that you failed to cover your tracks. I would have expected better from -"

"Timmy!" Angeline broke eye contact to level another glare at her husband, who broke off mid-sentence.

"What I mean to say, of course, is that we are both glad you are safe."

If his head had not hurt quite so badly, Artemis would have considered mentioning the mixed messages he was receiving. He would have stated exactly how careful he had been to avoid unnecessary risk, called attention to the fact that his brothers had physically removed the door from his study, and definitely clarified the exact nature of the friendship that existed between himself and Holly Short.

Yes, if he had not still felt so weak, dizzy, and feeble, he would have had quite a lot more to add to the conversation. As it was, however, he simply took the excuse to change the topic of discussion away from the embarrassment of being caught in such a transgression by a pair of five year-olds.

"I realize this is not a good time to broach the topic, but I would like to discuss a business proposition that has recently caught my attention. Holly, my friend, works with the Lower Elements Police force, and as a result of my findings in America they have offered me a short-term position as a consultant. If you have no objections, I intend to accept."

"You want to become a police officer?" If Fowl Sr had sounded mildly confused before, he now seemed entirely baffled, staring at his son as though he could not quite comprehend exactly what had happened to the boy he had once groomed to follow in his footsteps as the head of a criminal empire. Reformed or not, Fowl Sr had definitely not expected such an extreme turnaround in his son's moral compass.

"Hardly, father. A consultant."

"A consultant, fair enough. But law enforcement? I wasn't aware that was an area you were interested in?"

It went unspoken that, traditionally, the Fowl family's only interest in the law had manifested itself in an uncanny ability to find loopholes in it. Artemis had even discovered, nearly a year prior, that several of his ancestors had been pirates. "Yes. Law enforcement."

"Is this because of her? I am starting to get the impression that I really should meet Holly, if she is to become such a large part of your life."

Again, Artemis did not quite feel up to the task of fully expressing himself. After all, Holly had been a large part of his life for nearly a decade - but again, clarifying the exact nature of their relationship required time, energy, and a clarity of thought that Artemis currently knew he lacked. He held his tongue as Angeline touched her husband's arm, gently.

"And I'm sure you will. If Artemis feels up to it, I believe it would be good for him to have a project. Somewhere to focus his attention. Healthy, even." She searched her son's face for a moment. "Given everything that's happened this year, if Arty is interested in this, I believe we should encourage him to stretch his wings and give it a try."

More unspoken words. Artemis knew all too keenly that in this past year, his parents had seen him declared legally dead for the second time. He could not help but notice the way they still looked at him every time he entered a room, as though faced with a living ghost.

-x-

Butler was waiting outside the hall when Artemis stepped through the door. His arms were crossed over his chest, his fingers drumming against his arm as he stared down at his charge.

"Butler," Artemis sighed. "I must apologize for my earlier behaviour. Understand I only wished - "

"Enough, Artemis. I've heard your excuses."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "My reasonings are my own. Again, I apologize for causing you worry."

He started towards the stairs and Butler pivoted to follow. While the bodyguard neglected to say anything more, Artemis could sense his disapproval. It made for an uncomfortable walk to his bedroom, as neither was willing to concede defeat.

The bodyguard cleared his throat as they reached the study. "Artemis -"

"Yes, Butler?"

"If I leave you alone in that study, tell me you aren't going to disappear on us again."

The corner of Artemis's mouth twitched. "Would you like me to hang a sign next time I sneak out of the manor?"

-x-

Truth be told, Holly still wasn't sure that Commander Kelp wasn't pulling some trick on her. To be discovered in the aftermath of a surveillance exercise gone wrong with a drunk teenager of morally ambiguous nature should have led to demotion or, at the least, traffic duty for a few weeks. Instead, Kelp had hired Artemis as a consultant and transferred her to - to what? Babysitting duty?

Perhaps it would have been easier to see the good in this new situation if Holly had any idea what she was supposed to be doing now. Her first discovery upon returning to the LEP headquarters in Haven was that her desk space had already been reassigned. There had been a great deal of chaos in the LEP following the Great Techno Crash, with officers often rotated between departments in order to keep up with the demands of rebuilding the city and wiping any sign of their existence from human technology. Still, she couldn't help but be a little peeved to find that all her office supplies had been confined to the contents of a plastic file box.

"You aren't leaving that here," objected the pixie who had taken over the desk space. He eyed the box unhappily. "I need my space."

"And I need my desk," Holly said testily. "Let me talk to the Commander and get this cleared up."

"Better take your box with you," snipped the pixie, "Because it won't be here when you come back."

Holly liked to think that years of dealing with Artemis Fowl and those characters generally associated with their exploits had taught her a lot about self control. Even so, it took everything she had learned to refrain from letting loose. Instead, she grit her teeth, slid the box off the desk, and headed straight to the commander's office.

It was as though Kelp had been waiting for her. "You got Grub's message?" he asked the moment she stepped through the door.

"No," she said, trying not to grit her teeth, "I haven't seen him."

Kelp rubbed his forehead and tapped a note into his computer. "He was supposed to inform you that your desk had been reassigned."

Holly looked down at the file box in her hands. "So I've learned."

Kelp sighed. "Captain Short, I don't need to remind you that conditions around here have been difficult over the past year."

"I understand that, sir."

But Kelp wasn't done. "This chaos is only another reason why we need Fowl to look things over. We need someone with a level head, someone removed from the chaos of the force, who can focus on this job."

"You make it sound as though hiring him was a rational decision."

"I'll admit there is a degree of risk in asking a human to consult on LEP matters. But you know better than anyone that Artemis is the human to ask. He's motivated, given the outcome of his encounter with Jones. He'll find the security leak, and I doubt it will take him more than a day or two to do it."

Holly looked down at her file box again and conceded defeat. "I assume I still get a desk?"

"Right, yes." The commander was avoiding her eye, which was never a good sign. "Ask Foaly for the room number. There's space for the new office to set up."

Holly could not think of any place in Police Plaza that had not already been converted into office space. "An entire office, sir?"

"Space for yourself and Fowl, yes. Now if you wouldn't mind, Captain, I have my own work to attend to. Issues that I had to put off in order to pay a visit above ground yesterday."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

She turned to the door before the full meaning of his words hit her. "Fowl?" she repeated. "Fowl's coming here?"

Kelp set down his stylus with a sigh. "Yes, Holly. Fowl is coming here. We need him on-site to go through system details. Is there a problem?"

There were several problems, as far as Holly was concerned, all of them beginning and ending with Artemis Fowl. Instead, she forced a deep breath. "No, sir," she said firmly, and left the office in order to hunt down Foaly.

-x-

Foaly had the indecency to look mildly smug when Holly entered the Operations Booth. "Captain Short!" he cried cheerfully, "How is my favourite new transfer?"

"Just give me the room number," Holly sighed in response. Her arms were getting tired from toting around the filing box.

The centaur whinnied and typed a command into the computer. A moment later, Holly's wrist computer beeped. She huffed impatiently.

"If you haven't noticed, my hands are full. Where am I going, Foaly?"

"You know where the boiler room is?"

"Oh no."

He smiled quite unhelpfully. "You will never look at budget cuts the same again. And think of it this way - at least they gave you some desks."

-x-

Holly was there when the shuttle doors opened, waiting with a hand on her hip and a tired smile in place. As Artemis stepped out onto the platform with his briefcase in hand, Holly glanced into the shuttle behind him.

"Where's Butler?"

He regarded her cooly. "Really, is that the way you greet every business consultant? No hello?"

She made the point of meeting his eyes. "Hello, Artemis. Where's Butler?"

"He has remained at Fowl Manor." He saw the concern that crossed her face and hurried to assure her, "He is fine. However, this is a simple consultation and I convinced him that I would be perfectly safe in the vicinity of Police Plaza the entire time. Besides, if something were to come up, I'm sure we would be able to take care of the situation ourselves."

"By which you mean I would do all the shooting while you hide under a desk."

He smiled. "Precisely. In any case, I assured both Butler and my parents that at any sign of trouble, I would return home straightaway."

Holly's expression seemed to indicate that she remained skeptical, but she did not argue. "At least you're walking in a straight line now," she said, peering up to study her friend's face. Artemis seemed tired but stable, and his bloodshot eyes were focusing properly as his gaze swept over the crowded shuttle port. "Thank the gods for that, at least. Foaly nearly had a coronary back in Denver."

"I was meaning to thank you for that, Holly," he said, meeting her gaze once more. "I realize that the incident in Denver was something of an embarrassment to us both, and you -"

"Oh, no." The elf raised both hands, defensive as she took a step off the platform and onto the tile. "There's no 'us both' about this one. You're the one who removed your wire, Fowl."

"Either way," Artemis replied stiffly, trailing after her with his hand still clenched around the handle of his briefcase, "I meant to thank you. I acknowledge that caring for me while I was ill could not have made for an enjoyable evening."

"Not enjoyable?" Holly let out a sharp laugh. "Arty, I promise to never speak of this again if you promise me that, next time there's a sedative gun aimed at your head, you duck."

"Seconded. I admit, the experience was highly disagreeable," the young man agreed, following her. He had an easier time navigating the crowd than she did, having a height advantage over nearly everybody else in the terminal. It helped, too, that each time an individual refused to move out of their path, the poor soul became the target of a piercing cold glare.

"That's why you're here alone, isn't it?" asked Holly, peering over her shoulder. "You _are_ embarrassed over this whole thing. Willing to bet you didn't even want to tell Butler the whole story because he'd have some serious words for you over it."

Artemis merely adjusted his grip on his briefcase, reaching with his other hand to open the door. "It doesn't matter," he said. Holly darted under his outstretched arm to reach the door first, skipping out onto the city street. She paused in the doorway, considering.

"So, how much trouble did you even get in?"

"Apparently, I am to be 'grounded' the moment I return aboveground. I am still uncertain whether this is an accomplishment or something to be ashamed of." His nose crinkled for a moment in a mild expression of distaste.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I didn't even realize that was a thing that could happen to you. Grounded. Like a normal person." Holly thought back to her relocated desk, and realized that she really didn't feel bad for him at all.

-x-

"Explain to me why it had to be the boiler room. Really, I'm dying to know."

"Stop whining, Fowl. It's not becoming. You've got a desk, a chair, and access to the mainframe. You are only here to consult, after all. Don't need anything more than that." Foaly spun around in his swivel chair to survey the human who had somehow managed to override the security system and gain access to his ops booth. What was worse was that the elf who had been assigned to babysit him had apparently stood guard as he manipulated the system into giving him clearance. Foaly had hoped to have this conversation over video conference rather than face-to-face, but clearly that was not in the cards.

"This is a passive-aggressive attempt at retaliation for the cutting of your budget," Artemis concluded, pressing his fingertips together.

"And even if it is? All the paperwork is in place, Artemis." The centaur snapped a carrot in two between his front teeth, chewed noisily for a moment, and swallowed it with a grin. "You've even got your own department, seeing as nobody else wanted to touch this one with a ten foot pole."

"Can you blame them?" muttered Holly from where she leaned against the doorframe, her arms folded across her chest. "The moment he's involved in _anything_, it escalates."

"I resent that," protested Artemis. Holly shrugged, daring him to argue. Rather than take the bait he chose to turn his attention back to Foaly, narrowing his eyes. "If I didn't know better, centaur, I would suspect that you were feeling somewhat redundant, seeing as I was called in to examine the systems that you built after you failed to keep them secure. Arranging for me to be placed as far away from your control center as possible would serve to keep your own sense of autonomy intact, and thus enable you to feel as though you've managed to retain some control over your domain."

"Says the Mud Boy who removed his wire and spent the night sick and babbling after he got tranqued by an American," remarked Foaly with a satisfied swish of the tail. "That's your office while you're here, and you can take it or leave it. Either way, it's not my problem."

"Can you two just stop already?" groaned Holly, finally pushing away from the door. "You're both giving me a headache. The sooner we're done here, the sooner I get my desk back."

"Well, pending an approved transfer, of course," said Foaly. "New department, and all that."

"Dare I ask if we've got a name?" said Artemis dryly.

The centaur brightened. "Actually, you do. I came up with it myself. LEPfoul. Get it?"

"'Fowl,' as in, my name?" For once, the human sounded puzzled. "That seems trite."

"Of course not like your name. It's an acronym. Fowl Operating Under the LEP. F-O-U-L." The centaur beamed with pride. "I came up with it."

"Isn't the second 'L' redundant, then?" Artemis pointed out. Foaly glared, and Holly stifled a snicker.

-x-

For once, human and elf were in total agreement as they walked down the hallway towards the boiler room, having been effectively shooed from the lab after spending several minutes mocking the moniker of their makeshift police department.

"Foaly spends far too much time trying to be clever."

-x-

For all that the LEP wanted Artemis to do his job and leave in the quickest possible manner, they were doing a terrible job of letting him work. In the two hours since he had logged into the computer system, the makeshift office had received no less than seven visitors. All but two had questionable reasons for even being there, using such excuses as hand-delivering memos and requesting Holly's signature.

"There are countless other officers who could sign for this!" she snarled at last, frightening a poor gnome out into the hall again. Artemis raised an eyebrow.

"The LEP is swamped as it is," she said defensively, "Sightseers are annoying and a waste of time for everyone involved."

Artemis did not argue. He turned back to the computer screen, scanning the information displayed while saying, "And meanwhile, you're stuck with me."

"Yet again," Holly sighed.

There was another knock at the door, prompting a growl from the elf. "The wi-fi network is _not_ down," she said pointedly.

The door opened anyway. "Captain Short," said the sprite as he entered, actually standing at attention and doing his best to keep his eyes from drifting toward the human's desk.

"You look ridiculous, Verbil," Holly responded. "You'd better not be here for a signature."

"Actually," his eyes darted again to Artemis and back, "Commander Kelp sent me. There's a human-fairy entanglement issue he wants you to sort out."

This, at least, got Artemis's full attention. "I thought I was only here to go over Foaly's security systems."

Perhaps it was the dim light of the boiler room, but he appeared to be mildly concerned. Holly allowed a grin. "You're with the LEP now, Fowl," she said, "We get assigned a situation, we take care of it."

"That sounds ominous," remarked the human as he returned his attention to the screen before him.

"Welcome to law enforcement," muttered Holly, her grin slipping. She waved one hand about the boiler room, tapping her desk for emphasis. "Human-fairy entanglement issue, Verbil? I thought we resolved it by placing me on babysitting duty."

"I thought we agreed that I did not need to be babysat," said Artemis acidly, manipulating a variable on the screen with one fingertip, his other hand drumming a pattern on his leg.

"A different, erm, issue?" squeaked the sprite with a nervous flutter of his wings. Suitably intimidated by the two occupants of the small 'office,' he spoke quickly. "It turns out there's this group of humans up in Norway that've fallen onto the map. Calling themselves 'hacktivists' - apparently online activism is some kinda human trend?"

Artemis shrugged, indifferent. "I've heard of it."

"Well, these guys have got their hands on some programs and code that the big guys upstairs doesn't think they could have come up with on their own. Got fairy fingerprints all over it, apparently, and as per Fowl protocol I need to get verification that -"

"Fowl protocol?"

Holly cringed. "You really think we've known you this long and not had a protocol in place?"

"Of course I knew the protocol existed. I'd merely have hoped that, given as I'm now on your payroll, said protocol had been discarded. And if you truly need verification, I can assure you I've got better ways to spend my time than revealing the People's secrets to your so-called 'hacktivists.' There, was that so hard?"

"Look," said Verbil, "All I know is that I was told to get confirmation, and then ask you to keep an eye out for any code or what have you that could have possibly slipped through the cracks. I don't know the tech stuff, I'm just the messenger, please don't shoot me."

"Shoot you?" Holly found herself smirking once more. "Don't worry. I already confiscated his gun."

-x-

"It's a fairly simple code, to be honest," Artemis admitted, looking up from his computer.

Holly started. She'd just gotten back into working on her reports and had believed Artemis would be wrapped up in his programming for quite some time.

"Don't tell Foaly, but I actually set the program to piggyback one of his own systems - a security flaw, actually, that I'll have to take up with him later, as anybody with an access code could make it work. Now that it's running, the only thing I have to do is wait. And, of course, continue to pick through the centaur's systems."

She set down her holobook. "You think it will find something?"

Artemis appeared miffed at her doubts. "Trust me, Holly. This is what I do. If there is any loose thread left behind by the hacktivists' fairy contact - and I have little doubt that there is - then my program will locate it. It's too convenient that Jones's access to satellite data surfaced at the same time as this affair. I would bet that the two security leaks are somehow related."

She rolled her eyes but didn't bother to question him any longer. "In that case, it's lunch break."

"Lunch break?"

"Come on, Mud Boy. Don't tell me you haven't heard of lunch."

-x-

"Artemis Fowl," said Holly with a growing sense of horror, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Fixing the coffee-maker," the human said. 'Fixing' was, to Holly's untrained eye, perhaps the exact opposite of the task he seemed to be engaged in. In the two minutes since she had turned her back on her friend, he had somehow managed to completely and systematically disassemble the formerly-functional machine. It now lay in dozens of pieces spread out across the table before Artemis, who sat with his hands folded and brow furrowed as he visualized how best to put it back together.

"Fowl," she said, feeling a headache already starting to set in above her right temple, "Look. In a police precinct, there are two things you do not mess with if you value your life. At any cost. Ever. The first isn't applicable to you, but the second is. The coffee supply, Fowl. You never, under any circumstances, mess with the coffee supply. So I'm going to ask you again: what do you think you're doing?"

"My answer hasn't changed, Holly," he said, finally looking up. "The machine wasn't running at full efficiency. I can't believe nobody here noticed that. It would have impacted the taste of the brew."

"And you really think anybody who works law enforcement actually cares how their sim-coffee tastes?"

"No need to sound quite so incredulous, Holly. Just because your experience does not lend itself to more discerning-"

"I don't care." She cut him. "Fowl. I really do not care. Just fix it. Put the coffee maker back together, put it back in the corner where you found it, and let it go."

She could have sworn the Mud Boy was pouting at her, if she did not already know that Artemis Fowl did not pout. Even so, he appeared to be ignoring her orders. As she watched, he picked up one of the pieces and began to pull it apart.

"Fowl. Listen to me. Put this back exactly how you found it and maybe we'll get out of this alive."

"I don't appreciate your exaggerations," Artemis muttered distractedly.

There was a clatter behind her. Holly whipped around to see Officer Kona in the doorway to the break room. Kona was what Holly might have described as the 'burly male elf type' - not that it showed at the moment, as he now had an aghast expression on his face and was leaning against the wall for support.

"The coffee maker," he choked. "Where did it go?"

Holly stood up, blocking the worst of the mess Artemis had made. "Repairs," she said brightly. "I believe there's one on the fourth floor."

Kona vanished out into the hall and Holly wheeled around again. "I swear, Fowl, if you don't -"

Artemis's phone chimed, and he twisted it about on his finger and brightened. "I was right," he announced, "My program has yielded results."

Holly glanced at the clock - it was nearing the time she knew most of the officers on this floor began their break. "Right," she decided. "Let's go check those results then."

"I dislike the idea of leaving my project on the table," Artemis objected. "Pieces might go missing."

Holly had a knack for navigating stressful situations. She prided herself on her ability to not choke under pressure, and knew full well how to keep a level head even when the stakes were high. Even so, she experienced multiple pangs of anxiety at leaving Artemis alone in the lunchroom with a broken coffee pot as she went to fetch the box that had, that morning, held the contents of her desk. It turned out that the only thought more alarming than the idea of Artemis breaking the coffee machine was the idea of him being unable to reassemble it.

She half-expected to return to find a bloodbath, and could not help a sigh of relief at finding the human exactly where she had left him when she eventually returned, gripping the plastic close.

"I do have some tact," he hissed as he poked his head around the corner five minutes later, checking to be sure the coast was clear. Holly had insisted on carrying the boxed machine herself, not trusting her clumsy friend to not trip at a critical moment. This trip through the office was a stealth mission. "I merely told them that it's being repaired," Artemis continued, "and there's a functional machine on the fourth floor. Though I am starting to believe that you were correct about the importance of sim-coffee to this organization. Everybody seemed quite distressed about having to travel several flights of stairs to find a functional -"

"What do you mean everybody?" she whispered in reply, nudging him with her foot to spur him to check the next corner.

"Well -" began Artemis, gesturing to her to follow. "As you so kindly pointed out earlier, most officers tend to take lunch breaks around the time generally considered suitable for lunch."

"Don't you dare get sarcastic with me, Mud Boy," she muttered, closing the boiler-room door behind them with one hand while the other balanced the box against her knee. Artemis took it from her once more, retreating with it back to his desk.

"Sarcasm? Me? Holly, I'm wounded."

"And we are leaving. If you thought the rubberneckers were bad before, you clearly haven't seen the outpouring of concern that usually follows a broken coffee pot. Field trip time."

"I suppose we could talk to Mulch," said Artemis, checking his computer screen. "I've got a name and address for the machine that uncovered the security issue. One Caltrop Chlorella. He's got a record, though it's mostly for petty crime."

"Then Mulch has probably heard of him," said Holly. "We're leaving. And for Frond's sake, hide that box before somebody sees it."

-x-

The plaque on the door read Diggums & Day Detective Agency in gold lettering. Holly knocked, side-eying Artemis as he rubbed a finger over the lettering. He said nothing, and the door swung open before she could ask.

The pixie that greeted them scowled but backed up with a reluctant, "Come in."

"Doodah," Holly said curtly, sliding past him into the office.

"Greetings," Artemis added, and followed her lead.

The office was small and decorated in an odd style of mismatched figurines and framed certificates for various awards - most of which, Artemis was sure, were completely fictitious. The ceiling was also quite low; he'd been walking with a stoop ever since leaving the stairwell.

"Mulch is through there," Doodah said, waving a hand to the back office. Holly had already guessed as much.

Sure enough, the dwarf was there, his feet resting on his desk and a mess of chocolate bar wrappers on the floor. He jumped up when the door opened, wiping his face hastily and doing his best to kick the wrappers out of sight.

"Holly!" he said brightly.

"I am not asking where you got that chocolate," Holly said, although her voice made it clear she had a pretty good idea. Chocolate, while not illegal in the fairy cities, had a high import tax. The chocolate smuggling had gotten to be a large problem in recent years - and Mulch Diggums was just the sort of dwarf to make use of his underworld connections to gain a tasty snack.

"It's not what you think," the dwarf said unconvincingly, and then noticed the human behind her. "Artemis! Looking good for a cl -"

"Gold lettering made from real gold?" Artemis interrupted hastily, "Really." He doubted the dwarf would have permitted surveillance upon his offices, but it was always better to be safe. After all, while chocolate may have been legal, cloning definitely was not.

Mulch pretended not to have heard. "What brings such fine friends to my humble - and completely legal - business? The grapevine said you'd be in town," he said with a nod to Artemis. "Really, Arty, bad things seem to happen every time you step foot in America."

"That incident was supposed to have been classified," replied Artemis, looking to Holly for confirmation.

"Definitely classified," said Holly. "But I'm not asking about that one, either."

"I am," said Artemis. "How many security breaches does Foaly have?" He sounded incredulous, so Holly changed the subject of conversation. The last thing any of them needed was Artemis getting started on the topic of Foaly making technical mistakes.

"Mulch, we need to know more about a water sprite named Chlorella. First name, Caltrop. Apparently he's been involved in passing intel on to humans. Was hoping you'd have heard of him."

"And what's in it for me if I talk to you? After all, if you two are both working under the LEP, that makes this a formal consult, and I am entitled to compensation." The dwarf beamed. "Law enforcement, Artemis? I didn't see that one coming."

"Neither did my parents. And in terms of motivation, well." Artemis knelt to pick up a single chocolate wrapper from the carpet, holding it pinched between his thumb and forefinger with his nose crinkled in vague distaste. "Captain Short may not be willing to ask about that chocolate but I assure you I could, based on the unique chemical composition of the paint on this wrapper, trace it back to the factory where it was manufactured. From there, I could find the precise shipment that was diverted, attain a time frame, match shipping records, and uncover the exact smuggling port that allowed this particular bar of chocolate into the city." He folded the foil carefully, and tucked it inside his breast pocket for further analysis. "I would not incriminate you, of course, but I am fairly positive that shutting down that particular access route would have a predictable impact on the price of the commodities it used to allow into the city. If the only allure of smuggled chocolate is the price, I'm afraid an entire industry could collapse."

Mulch sighed. "It's a good thing we're friends, or I would be very insulted that you would think I'd be involved in anything so low as chocolate smuggling."

Human and elf exchanged a glance. Neither of them needed to speak. The dwarf conceded defeat, cracking his knuckles as he spoke.

"Look, Chlorella's small fry. Ran into the guy once before. He's not the type to be behind anything big. All talk, no show."

"We've got enough evidence to believe otherwise," said Holly. "Any idea where we would find him?"

"Sure. Just show up at his house. Doubt Chlorella's ever made a contingency plan in his life - calls himself an anarchist, but I'm pretty sure his housepets have a better understanding of the word than he does. You shouldn't have any trouble with him."

-x-

"So, we should expect to have trouble with Chlorella," Artemis said as they hit the sidewalk once more. Holly grinned.

"See? You're learning."

-x-

The flat of one Caltrop Chlorella was located in a building complex only a few blocks away from the detective agency. Holly wasted no time in scrolling through the list of flat numbers at the front door before cutting across the lobby to the stairwell.

"Again?" complained Artemis, "Isn't there a lift?"

The building was old and in need of repairs, the hallway decorated in a garish green that Holly assured Artemis had been the highest fashion a few decades back. And then they had found Chlorella's flat - second from the end - and Holly was pounding on the door.

It opened a crack, barely enough to show the face of a water sprite.

"Caltrop Chlorella?" Artemis asked. The water sprite's eyes widened at the sight of a human, and he nodded hastily.

"LEP business," Holly stated, flashing her acorns, "We'd like to ask you some questions please."

Chlorella's eyes flicked uncertainly between the two of them. He rubbed his eyes, and then slowly opened the door wider. Noticing Artemis's interest in the water tube he wore over his gills, Chlorella said defensively, "It's an impairment, okay?" The water bubbled as he spoke.

"Intriguing," Artemis said, and Holly shot him a glance to shut up.

The water sprite led them further into the flat. Artemis cast his eyes around in order to get a feel for the character of their suspect. The sense he got was mostly of electronics and water - interesting indeed, as he often would conclude that the two did not mix. Then again, for an individual who required water to breathe, the choice to live on dry land suggested a predisposition towards contradictions. An unwillingness to accept the authority of his own body, let alone that of the law. Artemis exhaled, knowing instinctively that they were standing in the right apartment.

Holly had already begun the questioning. "Mister Chlorella, have you ever been in contact with an human online activist group?"

Chlorella turned around and regarded them cooly. "Who?"

"Have you been in contact with any humans recently?"

The water sprite raised an eyebrow to the human standing in the room at that moment.

Feeling out of place, Artemis straightened his tie and turned away to glance over the computer equipment lined up along the wall. "This is impressive," he said, and caught sight of the empty birdcage on the corner of the desk. "A canary, I assume? Judging by the feathers and food supply, of course. Recently deceased?"

When he turned around, Chlorella had gone pale. "She's not in the cage?"

"Enough with the bird," cut in an exasperated Holly. "Answer my first question, please, or do I need to pull you in for questioning?"

That was when the canary screamed her battle cry.

Perhaps in hindsight, they would agree that "battle cry" was a bit of a misnomer. It really was more of a shrill twittering than anything else. For all intents and purposes, however, as far as war cries went, it did get the point across.

Artemis didn't have time to react before the bird had latched her claws into his hair.

"No! Not Lucia!" cried Caltrop, launching himself at Holly, who had raised and aimed her gun in the time it took Artemis to cry out and hit himself in the back of the head. Sprite and elf hit the floor in a tangle of limbs and weaponry, swearing colorfully at each other. Her shot went wide, but it had the desired effect as the bird immediately abandoned her attack on Artemis, dive bombing the two fairies on the ground.

In the interests of absolute honesty, it was not his reflexes that kept Artemis from being stunned. His brain always had worked more quickly than his body, and in the time it took the plasma shot to rebound around the room he had already calculated the angle of refraction as it ricocheted off a mirror, through one fish tank to another, off a polished metal sculpture, and towards his head. He ducked.

Holly's vision was a blur of feathers and gills. She lashed out, elbowing the sprite in the stomach and rolling to the side, clamping her hands over the back of her neck to protect them from the canary's vicious beak. "Artemis!" she yelped. "Do something!"

The nearest object was the birdcage, and so Artemis's hand closed upon it. Predictably, his aim was bad, and an attempt to swat the bird off Holly connected with Caltrop's nose, sending the poor sprite sprawling. Caltrop began to choke as the tubes around his gills bubbled furiously, and the canary took notice, turning again on Artemis. The human scrambled backwards, raising his hands defensively and letting the empty cage clatter to his feet. Holly swore, pushed herself up on her elbows, and shot at the bird again. Caltrop, choking on his misaligned air tube, chose that moment to kick out in his distress and the blow pushed Holly's aim to the side. Artemis ducked once more as the bird issued a truly majestic screech and whirled upon Holly again.

Seeing that the attacking canary was distracted, Artemis crawled to where Caltrop was struggling to breathe. Even as unfamiliar with the device as he was, it was a simple matter to determine how the breathing tubes should be attached to Caltrop's gills, and adjust them to restore the sprite's airflow. Caltrop sagged in relief, choking out a desperate plea.

"Lucia, stop!" he blubbered. The canary paid no heed. Finally, Holly rolled onto her back and managed to get a clear shot. The bird, which had been wheeling overhead and crowing triumphantly, fell abruptly out of the sky. It landed on Artemis, who reflexively shot his arm out away from it (later, he would deny actually "flailing"), sending the unconscious bird soaring across the room.

It landed in the fish tank with a rather unimpressive splash. Silence fell for a moment.

"Is...everybody okay?"

"Yes."

"I think so."

A pause. Artemis was out of breath, pressing one hand to the bloody claw marks on the back of his head; Caltrop's breathing tubes still bubbled furiously as his gills flapped, indignant.

"D'Arvit, we can't let the bird drown." Holly crossed the room to dig it out of the fish tank, closing her thumb and forefinger around one wing.

"Her name is Lucia," grumbled the sprite. "And after that, I think -"

"I don't want the death of a household canary on my conscience," said Artemis, picking up the dented birdcage from where it had rolled behind a desk. Reluctantly, he held the door open as Holly deposited the unconscious bird inside. It landed on the floor of the cage with a squelching sound, absolutely drenched.

"Caltrop Chlorella," said Holly as Artemis made some modifications to the cage's hinge to avert any further escape attempts from the sodden pet, "You are under arrest."

"What did I do?" The water sprite's eyes widened.

"Well, suspected contact with humans notwithstanding, domesticated birds are illegal in Haven. For obvious reasons. As is attacking a LEP operative, also for -"

"But the human is the only one bleeding!" protested the sprite, pointing a quivering finger to Artemis. He sighed, reluctantly removing one hand from the birdcage to reach for his pocket and remove his badge. He displayed it only for as long as it took Caltrop to read the text, and then returned his full attention to Lucia's unconscious, feathery form.

The canary gave a feeble, half-conscious chirp. Caltrop turned his head in alarm, and Holly took the opportunity to handcuff him.

-x-

They returned to Police Plaza half an hour later, Holly leading a handcuffed Caltrop while Artemis carried Lucia's birdcage as gingerly as possible.

Nobody believed them about the canary until, half an hour later, Lucia awakened. Holly and Artemis, waiting outside Chlorella's interrogation room on the other side of the building, knew the moment somebody decided to let the bird out of the cage. The terrified screams really did carry.

"What will be done with Lucia?" asked Artemis, his hands folded in his lap. Holly had already healed the worst of the scratches, but the magic had missed a smaller one along the back of his hand; he ran a thumb along it as he spoke.

"Probably, she'll be confiscated and they'll just send her to live in a colony of them in the wild. Can't see anybody here wanting to keep her."

"Good. She's half-feral already." Artemis frowned, listening to the chaos unfold.

Holly tilted her head, incredulous. "_Half_? Artemis, I'm starting to worry about you. First the lemur thing, then the crickets, and now canaries. Is there any sort of small animal that does not want to kill you?"

By way of response, he reached over and plucked yet another feather from her hair.

-x-

It turned out that wildlife was not the only local faction that wanted to kill Artemis Fowl. By the time Caltrop Chlorella had confessed to contact with the human hackers, a crowd had formed around the door to the boiler room. A very distressed crowd.

"You said the coffee pot just needed repairs, but it's actually dead!" wailed an elf, who stood in the doorway. Holly nudged him - none too gently - out of the way on her path to their desks, hissing over her shoulder at Artemis.

"I thought I told you to hide that box!"

-x-

"I take it back," Artemis said later, quietly. "You were entirely right about the coffee." He looked down to the plastic box of machine parts with a frown. It had been a struggle to talk the officers out of holding a proper wake for the contraption, and it really had seemed as if they were mourning the loss of an old friend.

They had stayed late at the "office" as Artemis got his first true taste of bureaucracy. For a single encounter with a violent household pet, the requisite paperwork would take most of the night if they worked straight through. He was the faster typist and agreed to shoulder the vast majority of it - or at least, that was what Holly assumed he was doing.

Close to midnight, he announced the completion of an algorithm to fill out the remaining forms for them. The elf considered objecting, but Artemis seemed proud of himself, there _was_ an awful lot of work left to be done, and she was positive the smell of canary would never wash out of her hair.

"You've been a bad influence on me," she muttered as she stood behind the human's chair and watched the paperwork fill itself out.

"You already know that the influence has been mutual," he said, quirking half a smile at the elf before returning his attention to the screen. The next few minutes passed in silence as they watched form after form whip by. Occasionally Artemis would hit a key to confirm an especially obstinate sequence of data; for the most part, they simply watched the program run.

"I don't need to tell you that nobody can know that this code exists?" Holly asked. Artemis nodded in confirmation as the screen beeped twice.

"Paperwork complete," it announced in a smug voice.

"I'll take our secrets to my grave," he said, solemnly, before adding, "Again."

-x-

It was early the next morning when Artemis finally logged off the computer and began packing up his tools. Holly blinked at him blearily, her head resting on her arms.

"Good nap?" Artemis asked, slipping a pair of pliers in the side pocket of his briefcase. Holly wondered why he'd even pulled them out if all he'd been doing was patching up code relating to the last major breach in Foaly's systems.

"I wasn't asleep," Holly said, sitting upright. Her neck cracked with the movement.

Artemis didn't bother to argue. "I believe Foaly's system is now secure," he told her, "although I will keep an eye on the situation from home."

"Doesn't that count as a security breach?"

"Only if I'm no longer with the LEP." As if the thought had reminded him of something, he felt in his pocket and withdrew his acorn badge. "Actually, if I'm leaving, I suppose it is time to return this."

Holly didn't take it. "Don't give that to me - I think Commander Kelp was serious when he threatened to keep you as a consultant indefinitely. We actually did the paperwork. Nobody actually does the paperwork. Besides, with your coin gone…"

Artemis raised a hand to his neck. "Yes," he said, "I should do something about that."

Holly pretended not to hear.

-x-

Holly had just closed the door to the boiler room behind her when a loud wail sounded from down the hall. There was barely time to recognize the furious twittering of a bird before something yellow darted around the corner.

"Duck!" Artemis yelped just as Holly pushed him back against the wall.

The canary shot by in a blur, triumphantly crowing her escape as she went. Clearly, Lucia was no longer interested in captivity. Barely a half-minute later, three frantic officers rounded the corner in a jumble, armed with nets and birdseed. "Where did she go?" shouted one of them. Holly and Artemis pointed in unison, silently, and watched the trio pass. The sounds of both bird and her pursuers faded in the distance, and still they waited.

"How much of that is our problem?" Artemis finally asked.

Holly shook her head, pushing back from the wall and turning to make her way briskly towards the lift. "None of it. Chlorella confessed to human contact, which means the matter now goes over our heads. You fixed the security breach, so that's not an issue anymore. And now that Lucia's been taken into official custody, the entire mess is officially out of our hands."

"Good."

The break room was located at the end of the hall near the lifts. Holly decided that it might be better to hurry past and avoid any accusations regarding deceased coffee machines. Instead, Artemis started to slow down as they reached the doorway.

"It's as if you want there to be a riot," Holly hissed, trying to propel her friend away from impending disaster.

Unfortunately, he had the opposite idea, stopping dead in front of the doorway. The room was almost overflowing with officers standing by the counter and passing around cups. Holly did a double take. Cups of coffee?

"It's alive!" one of the officers shouted gleefully when he spotted Holly. "The coffee machine is fixed and it tastes _even better._"

"What." It didn't come out as a question.

"I fixed it," Artemis said, adjusting his sleeve. "A peace offering." She didn't need to look to know that he was smirking.

"When did you -"

"You took a nap."

"For all of ten minutes!"

"Your point?"

-x-

Next Time:

_EPISODE 1.03: TAPS - Artemis sets out to retrieve his fairy coin, and Holly's request to transfer out of LEPfoul is denied._

-x-

_**Author's Notes: **_

For those of you who were afraid this was going to turn into another genius vs genius fic... here's a canary! PEACE OUT. -Winged

But for real, we're sorry about the canary. This episode's antagonist is a bird, it is entirely my fault, and this should give you some idea what to expect from this fic in the future. -Freud

And if it makes you feel any better, we do actually have a plan for where this thing is going. Yes, there are OCs involved. As mentioned in our last A/N, we're writing this fic as though it were a television show complete with an entire cast of characters, some old, others new. Thank you to everyone who has read the first two chapters - you are _fantastic_, and we hope you enjoy what's still to come! -Winged


	3. 103: Taps

EPISODE 1.03: TAPS

_Artemis sets out to retrieve his fairy coin with Mulch's help. The team gets their first intern._

-x-

**One Year Ago, Approximately**

The room hummed with the energy of the support system, the ebb and flow of life passing through wires lit only by the green-tinted monitor. The chrysalis was still, no sign of consciousness beneath its fogged glass cover, nothing but the pale, expressionless face that stared upward like the recently deceased.

Holly looked down on that face, her throat tight and her hands clenched. Behind her, Foaly was fiddling with the controls, adjusting atmospheric conditions inside the chrysalis required for the clone's current stage of growth. Holly had not asked for a technical explanation and for once, Foaly had not offered one. Instead, there was silence between them - silence save for the reassuring hum of the machine and their own steady breathing.

The clone twitched. It wasn't the first time this had happened and Holly was not surprised by it. She raised a hand, pressing it against the glass. Hesitated, and then lifted a finger to tap a pattern.

Something shifted, thudded against the walls of the chrysalis. A hand slid to meet her own, separated only by the thick glass plate. Thick, human fingers beat out a hesitant, uneven mimicry of the rhythm she provided.

_Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap._ Two, and then three. Or a set of five. Numbers that Artemis had always felt comfortable with. No fours, or multiples thereof. Just in case.

She lifted her hand to watch the clone's clumsy movements. _Tap…tatap. Tap - tap… thud._

Behind her, Foaly dropped a wire and cursed to himself as he scrambled to find it. Holly made a fist, felt the tug of her nails against her skin. Stared down at sightless blue eyes. Lowered her hand to the glass again.

_Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap._

_Tap…tap-tap. Tap. Tatap._

_Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap._

_Tap-tap-tap…tap._

_Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap._

-x-

**Present Day**

"Is this some type of Mud Man prank? Because I really don't understand."

At the sound of Foaly's whining, Holly glanced up, her hand tightening reflexively. A quick glance around the shuttle bay revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Two gnomes were positioned near the doors, periodically glancing up from their clipboards to gawk at the human on the platform, but otherwise seemingly unthreatening. There was no one else in sight.

Artemis was just as confused. "What Mud Man prank?"

"Oh, for Frond's sake," Foaly moaned. "The tapping. You're doing that on purpose, right?"

Elf and human exchanged a frown. "I don't hear anything," Artemis responded.

One of the gnomes had dropped his stylus. The platform must have had a slight slope, as the writing instrument rolled several feet before he caught up with it. Again, harmless enough. Holly glared at him anyway. Hand hovering over her neutrino, she hissed, "Please tell me you're being paranoid, Foaly."

Foaly stamped his hoof against the floor in a pattern of five and then stared at the others expectantly. Nobody moved.

"Do you need some sleep, Foaly?" Holly asked, dropping her hand from the neutrino. She looked up at the electronic screen overhead, which announced that the shuttle had still not arrived. She drummed her fingers against her leg impatiently.

The centaur looked between the two of them, utterly baffled. "You weren't... doing that... on purpose?" He sounded lost.

"It might be easier to ascertain if you would actually explain the situation," Artemis put in. His hand twitched.

"You _are_ doing that on purpose!" Foaly exclaimed and then, when he was still met with two blank stares, whinnied in frustration. "The tapping! You're tapping! Holly - oh, just - tap your fingers."

"Is now really the time for an improvisational musical number?" Artemis asked, but Holly had known Foaly long enough to know when it was better to simply humour him. She beat a distinct pattern against her neutrino. At once, Foaly switched his glare to Artemis, whose fingers were twitching against the handle of his briefcase - a perfect echo of Holly's pattern.

This realization was met with perfect silence as everyone stared at the genius's hand. Holly drummed another pattern, again matched perfectly by Artemis. Again, more complex this time - and again, an exact replica.

"Now I know you're not doing that on purpose," Foaly muttered. "Your sense of rhythm's nowhere near that good."

Artemis set his briefcase down at his feet and lifted his hand in front of his face to study it. "My sense of timing is fine," he said, "This, however, is not."

Foaly scratched at his chin. "Hmm."

"Indeed," replied Artemis, still studying his hand. His eyes narrowed for a moment, and just as quickly relaxed. "That does make sense."

"Yes," agreed Foaly, catching on immediately.

"You're doing that on purpose," grumbled Holly. "I hate to be the one to ask, but could you explain for everyone with normal IQ's exactly what's going on?"

Artemis lowered his voice. "Well, I would not wish to explain it to the entire room." He cast a glance over at the hapless gnomes, who were now attempting to retrieve the errant stylus from a crack in the floor.

"Correction. Do I_ want_ to know what's going on?"

"It's because Artemis is a clone!" declared Foaly, only to be met with a hiss from Holly.

"Could you possibly announce that any louder? And what on earth does that have to do with -"

"The tapping," Artemis interrupted. "You tapped on the chrysalis." He did not need to look for confirmation, though her face slipped all the same.

"What does that have to do with - oh. Oh, no. Are you saying that I - I _trained_ you?"

"Hardly. _Trained_ implies some conscious shaping towards a predetermined response. What you did was inadvertently trigger a reflex. I'd imagine it'd have otherwise been latent, as _I'm _certainly not conscious of it," said Artemis, for a moment unsure if he should be intrigued or displeased. He settled for a mixture of both. "I admit that this would be a fascinating case study if it weren't my hand."

"Let me try?" suggested Foaly eagerly. The centaur did not wait for permission, knowing it would not be forthcoming. Instead, he rapped on his coffee mug several times, and peered up at his friends with gleeful anticipation.

Nobody moved.

Almost gingerly, Holly tapped once more. Artemis's finger twitched.

"Well, that got awkward fast."

They parted ways quickly, Artemis visibly relieved when the screen updated to show the arrival of his shuttle. Picking up his briefcase and saying goodbye with a single curt nod, Artemis departed, and Holly turned to leave.

"Oi, heads up!"

The gnome's stylus hit her square in the forehead, and she caught it without blinking. With a twitch of her fingers, the implement snapped clean in two.

-x-

The shuttle ride was quiet, as was the trip back to Police Plaza. It was almost as though each believed they had reached the end of the matter.

They were almost correct. For eighteen hours, it was.

-x-

"Artemis! What do you know about interns?" Holly sounded frantic on the other end of the line and Artemis set down his tea, trying to more accurately gauge the situation. "Holly Short" and "frantic" were, in general, two concepts that did not find themselves in proximity. If he did not know his friend so well, he would have been worried. Fortunately, Holly tended to remain level-headed in truly dangerous situations, and so it was unlikely that the fraught tone of her voice was the result of any impending catastrophe. He decided to proceed from that assumption and spoke quickly, yet calmly.

"Generally, an intern is an employee who has had no former job experience and thus requires on-the-job training. Why are you asking?" She was silent. "Your lack of response is not encouraging," he noted.

"Neither is the intern staring at me like I'm his mother," Holly said dryly. It was a slight mistruth: she had managed to take refuge behind a desk for long enough to make the phone call, and so was currently positioned out of the intern's line of sight. Not that she expected that to last for long, as the hapless gnome had already circled the floor several times in search of her. She was positive he had only bypassed the boiler room because he had not yet realized it served as an office space.

"Please tell me this is an intern in the department you transferred back into," he said, frowning.

"That's cute, pretending you don't know what's going on. Start talking, Mud Boy." Holly peered out from around the desk. The intern hadn't moved, and she ducked back down out of sight.

"I really have no idea what you mean."

"Then the fact that I still attached to LEPfoul is news to you? My transfer out got declined, an intern caught me in the lobby this morning and said he was now part of the department, and you had no idea this was coming? Why don't I believe that?"

"I may have suspected this could happen, but -"

"Fowl! We have an intern now! 'Suspected' isn't good enough - what do I do with him?" she hissed. Across the room, the intern lifted his head at the sound and began to make his way to the desk. Holly swore under her breath. "This conversation isn't over."

The line went dead before Artemis could offer any advice. It was just as well, he supposed, as in this particular situation he wasn't entirely sure what suggestions to make. Interns were new territory for them both and, despite himself, his mouth twisted in a half-smirk. "The LEP is placing us in charge of staff," he announced, picking up his tea once more as the plane began to descend.

"A terrifying idea." Butler finished the thought, his brow furrowed in concern. "Will Holly be alright?"

"Oh, I'm sure she'll manage." A pause. "That was a pun, by the way."

"You really do pick your moments."

-x-

"Interesting," muttered Artemis to himself, studying the security system console.

"Well, that's never a good sign," observed Mulch, although he was too busy plucking a beetle from his beard to act concerned.

Butler grunted his agreement through the line. "Usually that's an awful sign. What are we looking at?"

Artemis had pulled open a panel to inspect the box's innards. "It isn't often I come across a system this advanced," he explained. "Especially not since the Crash. It makes Chicago look like child's play."

"Does this mean I need to get into this house the old-fashioned way? Not that I mind, of course," said Mulch, crushing the beetle between his thumb and forefinger. "You know all you have to do is ask."

Artemis spared a moment to glower. "I can reroute it. I simply need a moment."

"I'll give you two," said the dwarf generously.

Butler wasn't satisfied. "The old fashioned way is probably safer."

"And more likely to run into sewage." Artemis prodded one last wire and closed the panel before motioning to the door. "Your turn."

The dwarf brushed his hands off on his trousers and ran up the steps to the door. As he worked, Artemis took the liberty of sending a quick email.

-x-

**OUTBOX:**

Foaly;

You would probably be interested to know that Becquerel Jones has a surprisingly advanced security system.

-x-

It didn't even take an entire minute for the reply to come, a hiss of static over their earpieces announcing Foaly's entry to the conversation.

"What do you _mean_ you're in Denver again?!"

"Twenty-eight point seven seconds," Artemis noted. "I'm flattered."

"And in Denver. How - no, wait - why?! It hasn't even been a day, and you're back in Denver? Don't humans your age still need naps? You've got to be - what, twenty still, right?"

"Have I ever struck you as the type to need a nap? And for your information, most humans outgrow naptime by the time they're six years old."

By this time, Mulch had stepped back from the door. He studied his handiwork carefully, gave a nod of pride, and led Artemis around the corner of the house. They crouched in the foliage of the garden, Artemis brushing twigs off the arm of his suit while the dwarf peeked around the wall once more.

"All right," he declared, "let 'er rip!"

"Is that _Mulch?"_ Foaly asked, aghast at the thought. And then, "Let _what_ rip?!"

A second later, the lines crackled with the sound of the detonation as, two rooftops away, Butler activated the trigger.

"_Was that an actual explosion?!"_

-x-

**INBOX:**

Arty;

The intern is STILL HERE.

- Holly

-x-

"Relax, centaur," said Butler. "I had the detonator."

"How is that supposed to make me relax? You're not only in Denver, you're _blowing things up in Denver_!"

-x-

**INBOX:**

Arty;

For your information, the intern HASN'T LEFT YET.

- Holly

-x-

The smoke had barely begun to dissipate before a window on the second floor popped open. Butler watched through the binoculars as a gangly teen pulled himself out onto the roof. There was a tree close to the corner that Butler assumed the boy would make for but Becquerel had no intentions of going that far. Instead, he slid down the roof at an angle until his feet touched the eavestrough halfway along the house. He hooked his hands over the rim of the gutter and dropped down over the edge, swinging just enough to catch hold of the first floor's window ledge. A moment later, he was on the ground.

"He's heading towards the front," Butler relayed, and two figures appeared briefly at the other end of the house. They disappeared almost immediately into the smoke as they dashed inside.

"I don't know why you brought me along," Mulch was complaining. "This is way too easy. No fun at all."

"Why _did_ you bring him along?" Foaly huffed belowground. "And _why are you even there?"_

-x-

**INBOX:**

Arty;

Coffee: 1

Intern: 0

WHO DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO MAKE COFFEE?

-H

-x-

Artemis ignored yet another email notification as he led Mulch up the staircase.

"The security system is too advanced," he explained along the way. "After the Crash, technological advancements came to a stand-still as everyone focused on repairing the damage. Most systems were brought back online, but there's been relatively little innovation since. If I didn't know better, I'd theorize most people were concerned over triggering another collapse."

"So you broke into Jones' house," said Foaly. "You noticed the security system so you broke into his house. I'd be surprised if that didn't sound _exactly _like something you would do."

"Not exactly. My point is, I would like to know where he got those blueprints from. Based on what I saw of his lab, it's doubtful he came up with that particular wiring configuration by himself. It's much too organized - he's smart, but his work is chaotic."

"Can I be blamed for this? Is there any possible way I can be blamed for this?" Foaly was starting to panic. In fairness to him, it had been a long week - his budget had already been cut once, and this seemed to be rapidly snowballing towards another patented Fowl situation.

"Relax, Foaly," said Mulch. The dwarf sauntered along behind Artemis, hands in his pockets. "You're safe in your comm booth."

"Here," said the Irish genius, gesturing across the lab to the safe. "Jones keeps his laptop in here."

The dwarf immediately began to crack the mechanisms, leaving Artemis free to examine the rest of the room. A thin haze of smoke drifted up the stairs, already tainting the air. Artemis crossed to Becquerel's workbench, and opened a drawer.

"Why are you going after Jones' laptop? Fowl, the LEP already agreed to send a team to clean this mess up, what are you doing in Denver?"

"You keep asking that," mused Artemis.

"_Because you are not answering me!"_

-x-

**INBOX:**

Artemis;

Coffee update: I stand corrected. THE COFFEE WAS ALREADY BREWED.

WHO DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO POUR A CUP OF COFFEE? EVEN **YOU** KNOW HOW TO POUR A CUP OF COFFEE!

-x-

"Now this is more like it," Mulch said blissfully, stroking the door of the safe once more before tugging on the handle. It swung open easily, and Mulch turned to beam at his partner in crime. "We should do this more often, you know. You, me, a complicated security system... what more could a criminal dwarf want?"

"I heard that," grumbled Foaly.

"You were supposed to," responded the dwarf. "So, Artemis, am I free to go exploring now? A house like this has gotta have at least one more - _what are you doing with that?"_

Foaly remembered to panic. _"What is who doing with what?"_

Artemis raised both hands in surrender, effectively pointing Becquerel's dart gun to the roof. "I only wanted to know the dosage. For scientific reasons."

"Please tell me you are nowhere near that tranquilizer," came Butler's voice on the other end.

"I'm nowhere near that tranquilizer," said Artemis. Mulch coughed.

-x-

**INBOX:**

Artemis;

If you're so smart, why don't you come up with a way to SCARE OFF THE INTERN?

-x-

The contents of the safe were few. Becquerel's laptop sat atop a pile of printouts, and several small gadgets lined the walls, set carefully on shelves. For all the chaos throughout the rest of the lab, the teenager did seem to know how to keep important things safe. Artemis shook his head. "That's not right. Why isn't it here?" he muttered. "He'd have to have kept it. There is no way he didn't keep it."

"He evacuated the house and took his laptop with him?" said an incredulous Butler. Artemis shook his head.

"No, I'm not looking for the laptop. The laptop is here."

"What do you mean you're not going for the laptop?" By now, 'panic' was becoming almost tiring.

"I mean -" hissed Artemis, only to stop at the sound of something shifting on the floor below them. Mulch set a finger to his lips, and turned to the stairs.

"I'll handle this," the dwarf whispered, his eyes aglow in the smoke. "You just sit tight."

-x-

**INBOX:**

Fowl;

I KNOW YOU ARE READING THESE. INTERN PROBLEM. FIX IT. NOW.

-x-

The fire alarm was still blaring overhead as Bec crept along the hall, squinting through the haze for any sign of intruders. His lab would be the target, he knew; while he was mildly caught off guard by how soon the break-in occurred after his house had been cased, he couldn't say that he was completely surprised. It had been an easy enough detour to route around the back of the house and avoid any potential surveillance of his movements - after all, this _was_ his neighborhood, and he knew it like the back of his hand.

There was a figure near the steps to his lab. Bec took another careful step forward before realizing that the person was not sitting on the bottom step, but standing beside it and incredibly short.

Curiosity won out over caution. "Hey," he blurted.

The squat figure turned his head. "Whoa," he said, "Nothing to see here."

"I know what you are," Bec said, and took another step closer. "You're a dwarf."

"Give the mud boy a prize," was the muttered response, followed with, "No, _you_ shut up. And I am."

He was clearly communicating with someone, which meant taking anyone else by surprise was now out of the question. The hallway was mostly empty with no useful architecture, and he'd left his dart gun in his lab. No help there, either. Bec did have a height advantage, though, and he knew that had to count for something. Time to act, and quickly - the dwarf was already turning around, probably to dash back up the stairs.

"Your trousers are hanging open," Bec observed, his smirk evident from his tone of voice.

Safe in his comm booth, Foaly cringed.

-x-

**INBOX:**

DO YOU THINK I AM KIDDING?

-x-

Artemis looked up at the sound of the blast.

-x-

**INBOX:**

THAT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION. YOU HAVE KNOWN ME LONG ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT I AM NOT KIDDING. FOWL - FIX IT!

-x-

He and Mulch stood over the groaning teenager, just far enough to be out of reach should he be faking. The dwarf was buttoning up his trousers, head tipped as he studied his victim.

"He's not faking," reassured Artemis with a wrinkled nose. His expression quickly shifted. "Oh, there is is."

"Let me get this straight - we did all of this so you could get a piece of jewellery back?" The dwarf was incredulous, and Artemis merely shrugged as he crouched beside the other genius.

"He was wearing it," said Artemis with a mild expression of distaste. The gold coin, a hole shot through the center, hung on a metal chain around Becquerel's neck. Artemis quickly pried open a link in the chain to free the pendant, cradling it in his hand. It felt good to have it back.

"Jewelry?" questioned Foaly. "I didn't know you wore - oh. Oh no. I knew that coin would come back to haunt me. I told Holly as much, years back, and she didn't listen. Oh, no."

"Artemis, you told me this was about the laptop." Butler sounded displeased.

"Don't worry, big man, we got that too!" piped up Mulch, shoving his hands back in his pockets.

Butler held back a growl. "Then if you've got both, I suggest you get out before the fire trucks pull up. I can hear them already."

Artemis was about to comply when he saw Bec's eyes flicker. "Friendly warning," he said, still crouched beside Becquerel, "Stay back. You don't know what you're dealing with. Information does go both ways, so allow me to be honest with you now - what you've found is dangerous. It won't save your family, only get you killed. Believe that, if you believe nothing else. We would not harm you over this, but the next time you cross paths with me, circumstances may not be so kind. Understood?"

"We're . . . not . . . friends," groaned Becquerel Jones into the carpet.

Foaly pulled a face at his computer screen. In the handbook given to LEP recruits upon their first day with the force, it was written to always resist the urge to give that speech. Telling a human they did not know what they were dealing with inevitably led to that human becoming even more driven to find out.

Holly had never read that handbook, and now apparently Artemis had decided to ignore it.

Come to think of it, the centaur mused, they might have been the reason that segment was in the handbook in the first place.

-x-

**OUTBOX:**

Holly;

Apologies, I was busy. Are you still dealing with the intern?

-Artemis

**INBOX:**

YES. CALL ME.

-H

-x-

"You know, Fowl, I think you may have a point about Jones's security system," said Foaly. "The circuit casings are unusually advanced for humans."

"Of course I have a point," remarked the human, looking up from his inbox. The entire group had relocated to a safe point, several blocks away. In the distance, they could still hear the sirens. "Have you found anything useful yet?"

"Possibly. I'm looking at these now, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost suspect they were fairy in origin. Too delicate, given how humans have been lately. Far too advanced. You're sure you didn't -"

"They're not mine. You've seen the inside of Fowl manor's security often enough to know how my systems look," confirmed Artemis.

"Right. Which means..."

"Didn't the LEP _just_ have Artemis fix a security breach?" said Butler, carefully studying his young charge. "If satellite numbers got through to Jones, isn't it possible that other information was passed along?"

Back in his communications booth, the centaur blanched. "D'Arvit! I thought you said there was no way I could be blamed for this!"

"I've been known to lie," said Artemis with a casual shrug. "And if you'll excuse me, I need to make a phone call."

-x-

"That took you long enough."

Had Artemis been in the same room as Holly, he would have lifted his hands in self-defense. As it was, he could only pretend to hide the amusement from his voice as he asked, "Still babysitting?"

"It isn't funny! Hang on - give me a moment." Static crackled over the lines and through it, he heard Holly tell someone - presumably the intern - to stay where they were and not move. A door creaked in the background and something mechanical pinged really loudly and then she was back. "All right, we can talk freely now. And _by the way_, you are the last person who can make jokes about babysitting around me. Copy that?"

The ping sounded again and Artemis winced. "Understood. And tell me why you are in Foaly's operations booth right now?"

"Because Foaly isn't here and I needed someplace to hide."

Artemis frowned. "He isn't? I was talking to him only a minute ago."

"No, he rushed past me in the hall, muttering something about Denver and explosions." And then the rest of Artemis's words hit her. "Oh no. You were talking to - _was that you in Denver?" _

"'_Is _that you in Denver?'" Artemis corrected, "Present tense. I'm still here."

"I'm not even going to ask about that, Fowl. Just - tell me. _How_ do I go about getting rid of this intern?"

"That bad?"

"Worse. Worse than you, even. And by that I mean because he's _better _than you and I don't know what to do with that. You've ruined me, Fowl. I have no idea how to handle someone who isn't about to rob a bank or dismantle a sim-coffee machine."

Artemis considered denying the bank robbery as there was no way she could have physical proof that it had happened, then decided that maybe it was safer to move on. After all, it _did _sound like something he would do. A safe guess. "I would have thought that would be easier on you."

Her voice dropped. "He just looks at me. Just - waits. And I don't know what to _do_."

"You could always try teaching him how to pour a cup of sim-coffee."

"_Who doesn't know how to -"_

Artemis cut her off. "The intern isn't the actual problem, is he? You're tense. You've been on edge ever since Denver."

"Fine. You know what, then? You're right, I'm tense, and it's not about the intern. It's about you!"

"Pardon?"

"Fowl, this is how things always start out with you. They start out with something small, but before we know it we're looking at an absolute disaster! Sure, yesterday we were wrestling with a canary, but you know what? I've been chasing this intern around the office all day and d'arvit, I can't help but feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Holly, your paranoia may be justified, but please just take a breath and -"

"And you know what?" the elf continued as though he had not spoken. Clearly the pause in her speech had been exactly for that reason - to take a breath. "Last time this happened, things escalated, half the world blew up, and we lost you. Selfless action under fire is all well and good, Arty, but you know what's better? Not losing friends over situations that could be avoided! And now here you are, or were, _or are_ over in Denver removing your wire and putting yourself in danger like you've got no idea -"

Even if the fact that he had made it through this particular escapade with his earpiece intact would likely count in his favor, the fact that he had returned to Denver at all would immediately nullify that advantage. He wisely chose to not speak.

"- like you've got no idea what you put us through!" Holly abruptly stopped talking. Silence, save for the sound of her breathing on the other end of the line.

It was a rare occasion that saw Artemis Fowl at a loss for words. Now, it took him several moments to arrange his thoughts. He found there was only one adequate response. "I am sorry for that, you know."

"I know."

More silence. Holly was the one who finally broke it. It took Artemis a moment to sort out exactly what she was doing, and another moment to determine why.

Tap - tap - tap - tap.

He peered down at his own hand, curious. It didn't move. _A pattern of four_, he inferred. _She must not have conditioned me to respond to fours. Or, more accurately (as she was unaware she was conditioning me), Holly must have avoided patterns of four on principle_. The realization was oddly comforting, and he waited a moment before responding.

Tap - tap.

Slow, deliberate movements. So she would know he replied on purpose to what he was certain had been a question.

_Are we okay?_

_We are_.

They hung up without another word.

-x-

If Foaly was surprised to see Holly still in the operations booth when he returned, he didn't show it. He was probably still fretting over the Denver situation, she decided. The centaur made a beeline for his customized swivel chair, dropped into it with a heavy sigh, and immediately began typing. Holly could have left him to work in peace, but there was an intern waiting for instruction back in the boiler room.

"Tell me," she said resignedly, "How big of a mess did he make?"

There was no need to clarify just who she meant. Foaly whinnied unhappily. "Yes, it's his fault. His, not mine. You'll explain that to Kelp for me?"

Holly blinked. "What did you do, Foaly?"

"It wasn't my fault," he protested again, and the elf sighed.

"Are you going to make me call Fowl back to get to the bottom of this? Because I will do it," she threatened, and Foaly shook his head.

"No, don't - actually, wait a moment. A group call may be a good idea." Several keystrokes later, the centaur had opened a server window.

-x-

Artemis answered his phone at once. "Holly?" He had assumed that the conclusion to their prior conversation had been clear enough in meaning, but supposed he could be mistaken. After all, this was a matter concerning Holly Short. Even at the best of times, she was something of an enigma. But instead, he was greeted by Foaly's tired face, a tinfoil hat perched haphazardly upon his hair. Evidently it had been a difficult week for everybody, if the centaur was falling back upon old comforts.

"I'm here too," Holly piped up in the background, and Foaly leaned back from his monitor to allow the human a wider view of his comms booth. In response, Artemis set his phone down on the table, pulling up a video screen. Naturally, Mulch chose that moment to wander into the frame, and Holly groaned. "Gods - when you said there were explosions in Denver, you meant it?! He's there too?"

"Hey, now," said the dwarf, jovially. "That's not fair. Butler wouldn't let us near the detonator. Said something about how one of us had a bad track record with explosives, and the other one _was_ a walking bomb." He winked. "No prizes for guessing who's who."

"You know, you could have just told me Butler was in Denver with you. I would have felt a lot better about the whole thing if I'd known that," said Holly. Foaly grimaced.

"Can we get back on topic, please? I've finished picking through Jones' laptop, and got results. It turns out that the system blueprints trace back to a stray file -"

"As expected," Artemis interrupted. Mulch elbowed the slender human in the ribs.

"- _And _it turns out that this file wasn't ripped from the same source as the satellite data. So I took the liberty of tracing that back, and found that they passed through an IP in Sackville, New Brunswick. I did some background checks on the town, and sure enough -"

"Isn't that in Canada?" interrupted Mulch. "I thought Canadians didn't ever actually do anything illegal. Like, they just sit there and eat maple syrup all day."

"- _And _it turns out," said the centaur with an irritated tail flick at the interruptions, "That I've got nothing on them. They've wiped themselves off the map. They have a really nice tourism website and that's about it. We'll need somebody on the ground to sort out this mess from there, and hey, you three are in that part of the world to begin with, so you may as well go check it out for me!" He beamed. "After all, you do work for the LEP now, Fowl!"

"It hasn't even been forty-eight hours and I'm already regretting that decision," said Artemis sullenly. "And to think all I wanted was an excuse to pick through Foaly's systems."

"I heard that!"

"You were meant to."

-x-

Next Time:

_EPISODE 1.04: CHANGELINGS - In which there is maple syrup and plot twists._

-x-

**Author's Note: **

First off, huge thank you once again to everyone for reading along! And to those of you who review, you make our world go round. Seriously, biggest thank you. :)

Second, you may have missed the one-shot that Freud posted to our account in November. "And Every Map Is Blank" is her take on a conversation we had over the possibility that Holly wrote the AF series for Artemis (and explains such things as the changing of names and the ridiculously numerous reappearances of Opal Koboi). I strongly suggest you go check it out because it is awesome.

And if you read the A/N of that piece, you may have noted that Freud said I'd be posting my own take on that conversation "in a few days." You'll also have noticed that I haven't done it yet. I won't offer up excuses but I will say that now that exam week is coming to a close, I should have plenty of time to finish it up. Fingers crossed, and hopefully I haven't jinxed myself again by saying so! - Winged

Two inside jokes for this episode. Firstly, Winged and I are both twenty and still religiously observe naptime. Secondly, we're both Canadian. And, spoiler alert, Artemis and Holly definitely _were_ the reason that segment was in the handbook. - Freud


	4. 104: Changelings

EPISODE 1.04: CHANGELINGS

_In which there is maple syrup and plot twists._

"I don't see any snow," was the first thing Mulch said upon stepping from the jet. He had his arms folded as though he'd expected it to be colder, while there was really nothing beyond a slight evening chill.

"It's Canada, not the Arctic," Butler responded. He was already down on the pavement, checking over the rented SUV that he'd arranged to have brought to the runway for their use.

"Aren't they the same thing?" Mulch stiffened. "Wait! Is that a beaver?"

The wild dog paused to regard the plane with baleful eyes before slinking around the wheel and out of sight.

-x-

There were sounds coming from the boiler room as Holly approached. More accurately, sounds beyond the usual clatter of the boiler itself - somehow, she'd managed to actually get used to that one.

"What are you doing in there?" she called through the door, uncertain if it were a good idea to open it. The decision was soon made for her, as the sounds stopped and - a moment later - the door flew open. The elf skipped backwards and the gnome in the doorway glowered up at her, his arms stretched around a plastic cube of office supplies.

"I'm leaving."

"You're going home early?"

"No. I'm leaving."

The words sunk in. "Oh." And then, "_Oh._ Do you need me to - is there a transfer form I need to sign or - "

"No."

The former intern gave her one last dour look before pushing past her. Holly turned to watch him go. "Good luck," she remembered to add. "Stay away from rogue coffee pots?"

It was only when the gnome was halfway down the hall that she realized half of the office supplies in the cube didn't belong to him. He'd disappeared around the corner before she decided she didn't care enough to bother chasing him down to get them back.

-x-

**INBOX**:

Arty;

Intern problem solved. He quit. Lasted five hours.

-H

**OUTBOX**:

Holly;

Five whole hours? He lasted longer than I expected. Well done!

-Artemis

**INBOX**:

Arty;

Did I mention that he stole your pen? The one you built a laser pointer into? Oops. You didn't need that for anything, did you?

-H

-x-

Artemis had just opened up the latest email when he heard a pointed cough from the seat in front of him. He skimmed over the text and allowed himself an annoyed frown at its contents before closing the phone. "Yes, Butler?"

"We need to talk."

Artemis set the phone aside, even as it lit up with another incoming message. "You have my full attention."

"Why didn't you tell me our objective was to retrieve that coin?"

The boy slipped his hand to his pocket, closing his fingers around the smooth metal. The hole in the middle of the coin had always felt warmer than the surrounding air, as though the substance remembered the pulse that had shaped it. Always, it was steadying. "Because the LEP would have destroyed it upon their own retrieval of Jones' laptop. We had to act first."

"That doesn't answer my question, Artemis. I didn't ask why we went after the coin - I asked why you chose not tell me about it."

"Because a coin is small enough that it could have been kept in any number of places within the house - even within the study. We already knew where the laptop was and therefore it made more sense as a target for planning the retrieval."

"You've been keeping me in the dark about a lot of your plans, lately," the bodyguard noted, his eyes narrowing on the road. In the pause that followed, his hands tightened on the wheel. "If you were unsure about the location of the coin, it would have made sense to have another pair of eyes to look for it. You didn't want me in the house."

Artemis stared out the window at the flat green landscape as it rolled past. Behind him, Mulch let out a snore as he rolled over - claiming jet lag, the dwarf had fallen asleep the moment the car began to move. "That's a rather drastic conclusion."

"Yet I don't hear you denying it."

"I'm not entirely sure what sort of response you want from me, Butler." Artemis frowned.

"The truth would be a nice start."

"That's a little harsh," said Artemis. Beside him, his phone lit up once more, and he wrenched his gaze away from the window to peer down at the incoming message.

"Ignore it," warned the bodyguard, catching his charge's distraction in the rear view mirror. "I'm trying to sort out what is going on with you, Artemis. First, you snuck out of the house. Fine. I acknowledge that you're young, and your judgement may not always be sound. Then, you insisted on travelling to Haven alone. Perhaps you wished to spend time with Holly - after the past year, I would understand that. But then, in Denver, you lied to me and deliberately planted me far enough away from Jones' house that if something were to happen to you, I would be unable to reach you in time. I can't justify that. Tell me, Artemis: are you angry with me? Because I simply don't understand."

"No." Artemis exhaled, but did not watch the air condense against the windowpane. Instead, he flipped his phone over so the lit screen faced downwards. Gathered his thoughts. "Old friend, I could never be angry with you. You know that."

"Then what is it?"

"Do you really want to hear the truth?" asked the young genius, his brow furrowed.

"No, I'd much prefer you continue to lie to me," muttered Butler under his breath. His grip was tight enough against the steering wheel that they would later lose the damage deposit on the rented vehicle, due to him having warped the entire wheel out of shape. "Of course I want the truth."

"Fine." Again, Artemis released his breath slowly. This time he watched his breath turn to fog against the glass, obscuring his view of the New Brunswick countryside as it slowly dissipated. Now Butler was silent, allowing his charge the moment to think. When Artemis finally spoke, his voice was heavy, tense. "If you must know, I accessed your medical records."

"Artemis -"

"Hear me out, please. Upon my return I noticed that, in the time I was gone, Juliet had taken a more active role in ensuring the security of the manor. I would not have been concerned about that - after all, we both know she is very capable - yet about a month ago I watched you two spar. I may not be a fighter myself, yet I do know enough about martial arts to be able to tell that she was allowing you the upper hand. And so I pulled up the records." Artemis paused. "You, old friend, were the one who lied to me. You should have told me about your heart."

Despite himself, Butler snarled. "It's not relevant, Artemis. I would have told you if it was."

"You had a heart attack!" Artemis caught his voice breaking, and swallowed hard. "While I was gone, you experienced a myocardial infarction. So yes, as soon as I became aware of the situation, I took steps to minimize the stress placed upon you. Old friend, I did not tell you what I was doing because you did not tell me that it needed to be done. I 'snuck out,' as you say, because I did not anticipate problems in Denver and so did not see the need to concern you over it. At the time, it seemed to be a minor affair."

"Artemis -"

The boy did not stop. "As for Haven? The sudden altitudinal change of a shuttle journey places strain on even the healthiest cardiovascular systems, and I knew I would be perfectly safe belowground with Holly by my side. Finally, after Becquerel Jones tranquilized me, I did not feel confident enough in my knowledge of my altered immune system to be entirely certain that my reaction was not due to a truly nasty compound within that sedative. I was not willing to risk exposing you to it." Now his voice was hard, his eyes cold. "Argue with me, then. Tell me I did not have just cause to act as I did."

For a moment, Butler was not entirely sure how to respond. In the rear view mirror, Artemis' pale face was earnest, his eyes set. He sighed. "Artemis, you know that I _am_ getting older. That said, the day I become unable to carry out my duties as your bodyguard, I will let you know. Until then, I would expect you to -"

"To what?" Now it was Artemis' turn to soften his tone, lifting one hand to trace a line across the fog on the windowpane. "Butler, there are some risks I simply refuse to take. I have no choice but to ask you to humor me in this."

"Artemis, you were dead, and then you weren't. Your memories were gone, and then they weren't. You were weak, and you slowly regained your strength. Tell me: at what point was I supposed to have brought this up?"

"I found out all the same," he responded. Again, his phone lit up, and once more he ignored it. For several minutes they drove onwards, stray gravel and the last remnants of winter slush crunching together beneath the tires of the SUV. Nobody spoke until, finally, a voice piped up from the back of the vehicle.

"Are we there yet?" Somewhere along the last few miles, Mulch had stopped snoring. Now he sat upright, his hands folded almost demurely in his lap. "It's impossible to sleep with all this angst in the air."

-x-

**OUTBOX**:

Holly;

My apologies for the delay in reply, but you may want to find that intern. It wasn't merely a laser pointer, and I refuse to accept responsibility for whatever havoc he wreaks with it.

-Artemis

-x-

Sackville was the sort of town that belonged on postcards. It had a hardware store, several windmills, two convenience stores, multiple souvenir shops, and a lake. Two years ago there had been talk of opening up a Starbucks along Main Street, but eventually the plans had been scrapped to avoid the corporate presence in the idyllic town. After all, provincial government paid heavily for the right to feature it in their annual tourist brochures and television spots.

It was, reflected Demia Carter, a perfect example of what a town should be. Neighbors greeted one another in the streets, children sang Christmas carols in the town square each December, and it was nearly impossible to keep a secret for very long.

Her pink rain boots squelched the mud beneath her feet, and she inhaled deeply. The air smelled of springtime, the last remnants of ice lingering only at the most recessed areas of the shoreline. It was already being broken by the new reeds that sprung up each year, as though by magic, while the rest of the landscape was still frozen. At her hip, her cell phone vibrated; she frowned and spoke.

"Answer call."

The phone beeped once in confirmation, and began to broadcast a voice. "Yo, uh, Demi?"

"Yes, Bec?"

"Hey, man, listen. You may wanna be on your guard. My place just got broken into a few hours back, and they did something to the security grid you sent me. Not sure what it was, and I dunno if they can trace it back to you, but I figured I'd pass on the message anyways."

"Goodness." She bit her lower lip for a moment, considering. Gusts blew over the melting lake to ruffle her dark hair. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Me? Nah, I'm solid here." Back in Denver, Becquerel Jones wrinkled his nose. "My front hall rug is a different story, though. If company shows up, you might want to watch out for the short one. Packs a real wallop. I won't tell you how."

"I understand," Demia said, slipping her hands into the pockets of her skirt. "Thank you for the warning, Bec. You're a fantastic friend."

"Wasn't anything," the other teenager insisted. "I'll let you go now. Be careful out there, Demia. I know we're good, but these guys - they know about the magic, and they don't seem to care who gets in their way. You know? Watch yourself."

"I will. You take care." She tapped her painted fingernails twice against the casing of her phone, and the device took the cue to turn itself off. Tapping her toes inside her size six rain boots, the teenager looked up once more and spoke to herself, allowing the wind to carry her words out across the ruffled water. "I'll be just fine."

-x-

"I managed to track down the GPS coordinates," Foaly explained. "More difficult than I'd expect for a human. Not only was the signal bounced off various sites around the world but it was also set up to go through several different servers in Sackville. Clinic, local college, internet cafe, library. Looks like it's even being routed through several different homes."

He bit off the end of a carrot, forgetting again that the sound of his chewing would carry across the line. "Clever or stupid, depending on your reasoning. On the one hand, it makes it more obvious that the signal is originating in Sackville. However, it's also much more difficult to trace down the exact location of the signal's origin. It's a defence mechanism to ensure that the sender has advance warning if anyone is trying to trace back the signal - and to ensure that if someone comes looking for them, that someone will be footing it all about town first." He paused, waiting.

It was Holly who gave in first, sighing behind him from where she'd been keeping an eye on the proceedings ever since Artemis sent word that the plane had landed. "And you were brilliant enough to get past all that."

Foaly beamed. "Child's play. I simply had to -"

"As much as I enjoy analyzing your technique," Artemis cut in, "We're just driving into the town now. Coordinates?"

The centaur rattled off the numbers and continued, "The house belongs to a Harold Carter, a professor at the local college. Something to do with arts - oh."

Holly leaned forward. "Oh?"

"Oh?" echoed Butler and Mulch.

"Folklore," answered Artemis. He was looking at the college's website through his phone's browser - the same page that Foaly had opened on his own computers in the Operations Booth. "Professor Carter specializes in folklore and oral literature."

"Fairy tales," Foaly clarified unnecessarily.

Artemis was still reading through the page. "What is more, the professor took the previous term off on sabbatical, which he spent with his family in Europe. Norway, to be precise."

"D'arvit," swore Holly under her breath. "There's someone I need to talk to."

-x-

The Carter residence was distinct from others in the cul-de-sac, with ivy crawling up the walls and the roof in want of fresh shingles. A large tree cast a shadow over the front yard, which was partially protected from view by a waist-high hedge that was a mess of twigs and newly budding leaves. A novelty gate stood over the cracked cement path, with a girl perched on the metal bars to swing back and forth. Behind her was an overgrown lawn peppered with garden gnomes and dandelions.

Artemis looked beyond the girl and the yard, peering at the eaves of the house for any sign of a security system. There was nothing he could see but, given the trouble Foaly had with following the signal, Artemis would be surprised if Professor Carter did not have something in place.

"I need a closer look," he told Butler, and slipped from the vehicle before the bodyguard could protest.

Mulch had taken up position to the rear of the house and was getting impatient. "Wait, are you changing the plan?"

"A mere tweak," Artemis responded. "Stay where you are. I need a closer look to confirm a hunch. And Butler, I'm doing nothing more than walking past the house - you can pick me up down the road in a few minutes."

By this time, he was close enough to the property to see what he wanted. "The garden gnomes," he said, rubbing at his cheek to mask the movement of his lips should anyone be watching. "Those are the cameras. I'll trust you to get past those easily enough, Mulch."

"Is that a go?"

"That is a - "

Artemis gave the girl another look. She was dressed in a frilly skirt with bright pink rain boots and a mess of brown curls framing her face, and was playing with the hem of her sweater as she swung back and forth on the gate. She glanced in his direction and their eyes caught, briefly, before she looked away again. She hopped from the gate, and glanced up once more to offer a quick smile before turning and running - no, more like skipping up the front path to her door.

Artemis watched, and knew. "Nevermind," he said softly.

"Pardon?" asked Mulch, who had been just about to take his first bite of earth.

"Step back and regroup," Artemis ordered. His pace had already sped up, and rather than pass by the house, he turned up the path to follow the girl to the door.

She had already skipped inside and was waiting for him, the space between door and frame blocked by her body, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"It's you," he said.

From his vantage point in the car, Butler tensed.

The girl gave a bright grin. "Hello, Artemis," she said with ease, "I would love to invite you in but, see, my mother says I'm not allowed to talk to strangers."

"You already know my name," Artemis responded.

"And here I thought you were going to question my desire to follow Mother's advice." She tipped back on her heels. "But I really do not want to talk to you today, Artemis. Goodbye."

And without a single word more, she closed the door in his face.

"This is _not good_. This is the definition of _not good_. Beside the phrase "not good" in the dictionary is a picture of _this entire situation_!" said a panicked Foaly, turning back to his screen. In his ear, Artemis heard the tapping of keys.

"I'm aware of this," muttered Artemis through clenched teeth. He frowned at the door before turning away abruptly to regroup at the SUV.

"Not good," Holly groaned in agreement. The other shoe had officially dropped.

"Uh oh," said Mulch into his earpiece, preoccupied with his lost meal. "Our 'not good' threshold is pretty high. Did I miss something?"

"Mulch, you're supposed to be helping!"

"This is how I help - either I eat things, or I uneat things, and either way I've just been told to stand down!" The dwarf stuck out his tongue.

"Uneat?" repeated Foaly, distracted by his keyboard.

"Well, you see, usually when I eat something, it -"

"That's enough, Mulch," said Artemis with a grimace.

Nobody else asked for further clarification.

-x-

At one point in his life, Caltrop Chlorella had assumed that the only good thing about prison would be the separation from his housepet. Adopting the canary had been a mistake; apparently caging it had only served to make the bird even angrier. He'd often bemoaned his rotten luck in choice of domesticated companion, and grumbled to himself that at least in prison, he'd be safe from her reign of terror.

Unfortunately, he hadn't even been that lucky.

A bolt of canary-yellow lightning shot down the hallway, screeching out bloody murder. The water sprite shrank back against the wall of his holding cell, quivering. He hadn't yet been transferred out of Police Plaza - instead, the force had opted to hold him in the containment cells beneath the station until the true depth of his crimes had been determined. After all, he didn't particularly strike either of his arresting officers as an especially violent individual, and his fairly lackluster criminal record spoke for itself.

"I'm dead," he glubbed, reaching to his jawline to adjust the tanks over his gills. "That's it. I'm dead."

His cellmate, a rather despondent gnome with hair that looked as though it hadn't seen water in months, grunted in response. "Funny, you haven't stopped talking yet."

"You don't think this is serious!?" Caltrop was aghast, turning to the gnome. He took a quivering step forward. "I'm dead!"

"And you haven't shut up! You sound plenty alive to me!"

Outside, Lucia screeched once more. Cal grasped the front of the gnome's prison uniform. "I'm dead, man, I'm dead!"

"Hey, get off me!" The gnome lashed out with an elbow, striking the sprite across the chin. Caltrop went flying, his slender frame offering no resistance against the blow. His gill tanks crumpled upon impact, and he choked.

"H-H-Help!"

"You in there! Behave!" A rather burly elf rapped on the cell door, though his speech was cut off as he ducked beneath the freed canary as she made another pass down the hallway. "We're evacuating," he said as he swung the clear door open wide. "No funny business, now. Single-file, and let's keep this - Oh!" He swore, ducking down as the rogue bird doubled back for a second attack.

"Begone, feathered - feathered hellspawn!" sputtered Caltrop, throwing himself flat against the ground of his cell to avoid the furious beating of wings. The bird screeched and wheeled, and the water sprite scrambled back, pressing himself against the wall. "Lucia, stop!"

"Oi, you brainless maniac!" shouted the gnome, lifting the pillow from his cot and throwing it. He missed by a mile, but the diving bird felt the disturbance in the air and crowed her disapproval, wheeling an inch from Caltrop's neck. The sprite took the moment's relief to fix his tank, though bubbles still rose frantically in time with his rapid breaths.

"Her name is Lucia," gasped Caltrop as he finally picked himself off the floor. His cellmate grunted once more, his arms raised to protect his head.

"I wasn't referring to the bird. Hey, watch it!"

The elf had decided to join the fray, drawing his gun from its holster and firing off a single shot. It ricocheted around the small cell, the polished tile serving as a perfect conduit for the reflection of energy. The gnome yelped, and then hit the floor.

Caltrop took the distraction and ran for the door.

Holly Short heard the chaos several hallways away, and did not need to think twice about her response.

Instinct kicked in, and when she turned the corner to view the unfolding commotion, she barely thought once. At the sight of the yellow blur screeching after the fleeing sprite, she drew her Neutrino, took careful aim, and fired off a single pulse.

The bird dropped like a stone, landing spread-eagled on the cold tile floor. The hallway fell silent, and the elf took advantage of the sudden hush. She pointed a finger at the trembling water sprite, and raised her voice. "Chlorella, you're with me. Everybody else -" She paused for a moment, surveying the damage before shaking her head in disgust. "Back to business as usual."

Caltrop dropped to his knees in relief. "Thank you - thank you!" He peered anxiously around Holly, brow furrowed. "The human's not - not with you, is he?"

"No. I have some questions for you, Chlorella."

"Phew, good. As long as the human's not around." Now that the immediate threat had been dispelled, Caltrop rose slowly, leaning in to speak in a conspiratorial whisper. "Between you and me, Captain Short, the human's a bit of a menace."

Holly winced. "I'd noticed."

"Almost as wantonly destructive as my canary!" His gills fluttered, and Holly snorted as she grasped the sprite by the scruff of the neck.

"I doubt it. Now please come quietly. I'd rather not stun anybody else today."

-x-

Artemis had called for a full retreat to a cafe in the middle of the town. From his position, he could look through the window to view most of the street, and what he saw was quite interesting.

"You see, there," he told Butler with a nod towards the bank. "Surprisingly advanced security system for a small town. The streetlights are all energy efficient."

The bodyguard nodded thoughtfully, comfortable in the act of pretending he knew what Artemis was leading up to. Mulch, on the other hand, had no qualms about interrupting. "So the humans had a break-in at the bank. Bet I could still get in there."

"So, even the banks of big cities have been struggling to repair their security since the Techno Crash," Artemis retorted. "The world is still piecing itself together. Most small towns are still surviving on near-primitive technology."

"So our culprit is here because of the technology," Mulch said around a mouthful of maple donut. According to him, they were a Canadian delicacy.

"No. I would assume the technology is here because of our culprit." Artemis frowned and turned on the ear bud. "Foaly, have you found her yet?"

"Demia Carter," was the prompt response. "And besides the information on her father, the professor, there is nothing to be found. Sound familiar?"

"Unfortunately," was Artemis's response. "Excuse me, I have a call to make."

-x-

The call was answered on the first ring. "Hello and thank you for calling Paradizo Psychiatric Consulting. This is Sharon speaking. How may I assist you today?"

Mulch shot a dark look at Artemis before saying into the phone, "I'd like to speak to Min - uh - Ms. Paradizo about some symptoms I've been having. Obsessive counting, tapping. And an irrational fear of squids. _Ouch - hey, was that supposed to hurt?_"

"Would you like me to book an appointment for you, sir? I'll need your name and contact information, and - "

"Just over the phone," Mulch insisted. "It's urgent. I'm also hearing voices. Again. The evil ones_._"

To her credit, the secretary barely missed a beat. "I'll transfer you over in just a minute, sir. If I might have your name?"

"Mo," replied the dwarf easily. He waited until the strains of Mozart sounded over the line and then passed the phone to Artemis, who was resisting the urge to complain. Comfortable as his custom loafers were, they did not provide adequate toe protection in the event of kicking a dwarf. Mulch huffed. "I still don't understand why you can't make the call yourself."

"Because the receptionist recognizes my voice and no longer puts my call through," Artemis answered. Mulch blinked and might have asked more, except the human's expression changed just then as another voice came on the line.

"Hello, Mo. Sharon tells me you've been hearing voices?"

Artemis wasted no time. "Minerva, I need a favour."

The sigh carried through the line. "When _don't _you need a favour, Artemis?"

"I would assume, given our history, that you would find a way to spare a minute?" Artemis furrowed his brow. Minerva never did make this sort of interaction easy.

"Very well. What is it you need?"

"Information. I've crossed paths with a girl, Demia Carter, and I need -"

"No."

"Pardon?"

"If you are implying what I think you are implying, the answer is no. Sort out your own love life, Fowl. I won't -"

"Minerva, no. Listen. I have reason to believe that Miss Carter is aware of _our mutual friends_." His voice dropped. "The situation could potentially become quite dangerous, _as I am sure you know well_. The problem is that I am currently affiliated with the LEP, and so I am constrained by their methods."

"And you need somebody on the outside, to make sure our friends haven't missed any pieces of the larger picture?"

"Precisely. I'm sending the relevant information to you now."

"And I've received it. Well." Minerva pretended to stifle a yawn, though her eyes were already scanning the text, "I suppose I've got nothing else going on. I'll have to see what I can turn up. Though I'm not entirely certain what you need me for, if you've already involved yourself in the situation."

"Miss Carter was smart enough to find our friends, and I don't believe she's working alone. I'd rather waste an hour or two of your time than discover in a few hours that I could have used your help."

Minerva considered for a moment. "You owe me, Artemis."

"Thank you." Artemis hung up without further discussion.

-x-

**INBOX**:

Artemis,

Your request for direct access to the Haven Library Archives has been denied. As I am sure you are aware, several of our more important texts have been enchanted to disintegrate at a human touch. With that knowledge, we simply can not allow you unsupervised access to the physical volumes. However, you have been granted permission to work with Professor H. D. Tweedir, who has generously volunteered to act as your research liaison for the extent of your time with the LEP. Please set up an appointment by contacting a librarian during office hours.

Thank you,

Maple Plumtree, Head Librarian

Haven Library Archives

**INBOX:**

Artemis,

Friendly warning for my favourite Mud Boy, DON'T WORK WITH TWEEDIR. He's absolutely insufferable.

Or, on second thought, you two should get along wonderfully.

Third thought: did you really believe anybody would let you browse the archives? They tried to be polite about it, too - wow, that IS precious.

Foaly

-x-

**OUTBOX:**

Foaly,

I'm sure the warning is appreciated. Of course I did not expect my request to be approved; it was merely worth a try.

Artemis

-x-

Upon her arrival at the surface, Holly decided she was already tired of this particular adventure. Caltrop had not withstood the shuttle journey well - it was only after several nerve wracking moments of negotiating through the bathroom door that he was eventually coaxed into leaving the shuttleport. Really, he was no worse for wear. A little shaky, perhaps, and he had gone a rather off-putting shade of gray.

The elf made no secret of her disdain. Even Artemis had handled his first shuttle trip with a little more grace.

By the time they arrived in Sackville, the sprite's complaints had worn her nerves entirely thin. Artemis and company were waiting inside a rented SUV.

"Oh, fantastic," groaned Caltrop when Artemis exited the vehicle. "I think I'd rather take my chances with the canary."

"That could be arranged," threatened Holly through clenched teeth.

The human made a show of checking his watch. "What took you so long?"

Holly grimaced. "Ask the convict."

"Wait, what did I do now?" Mulch Diggums had rolled down a tinted window to poke his head out of the vehicle, inhaling the sweet night air. It tasted like springtime in the country, fragrant and clean. The sort of air that one only came across in a small town. The dwarf belched.

"Nothing, Mulch." Artemis did not look up, instead studying Caltrop closely. "Chlorella and I need to have a talk."

-x-

The discussion took place on an old, winding bridge that ran along the waterfront. Holly had perched on the wooden railing, her neutrino laying across her lap should Chlorella try to run. Butler and Mulch had taken up positions on either side of the walkway, leaving Artemis facing the miserable watersprite in the middle.

"As Holly and myself have already explained _numerous times,_" Artemis was saying tiredly, "no one is recording this conversation. You were brought up here for a face-to-face meeting _because_ this is strictly off the record."

"Why should I say anything?" Caltrop asked, arms folded petulantly.

Artemis gritted his teeth. "We're your arresting officers. I should think that even you would realize aiding us will only help your case."

"Off the record? You're not recording anything?"

Artemis reached into his pocket to pull out a thin, black device no bigger than his thumb. "A frequency jammer," he said. "I put it together while you were on your way to the surface."

Caltrop was impressed. "You must be serious."

Mulch rolled his eyes. "He didn't build it just for you, fishboy."

The watersprite blushed and said nothing. Holly groaned. "Don't act impressed, or he'll never stop showing off - it probably only took him twenty minutes."

"Sixteen," replied Artemis, returning the device to his pocket. "The point is, this is off the record. It's in your best interests to be honest, as with no proof that this conversation took place, nothing you say here can be used to incriminate you later. We simply need the truth."

"And then you're going to arrest me!" Caltrop folded his arms and glowered. "I - I know how this works! You'll arrest me -"

"You are already under arrest." Holly shot a look at Artemis that said quite clearly how little she thought of this particular escapade. The human sighed.

"As mentioned, we already did arrest you, which gives us some sway over your case."

"I - yeah, okay." Caltrop seemed to wither, his shoulders slumping. When he made a dash for the bridge railing, Artemis was almost able to move quickly enough to stop him.

Almost.

The water sprite hit the water with a sound splash. Holly took a moment to swear before she hopped the railing herself and dove after him.

-x-

"You knew that would happen!" hissed a waterlogged Holly twenty minutes later, once more standing in the middle of the bridge. One hand held Caltrop by the collar of his shirt; the other drummed a pattern on the barrel of her gun. Artemis tapped along.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Why are you doing that with your hands? Am I supposed to start singing along? Did this suddenly turn into a musical?" Now that escape was proven impossible, Caltrop had seemed to gain a bizarre sort of courage.

In fairness, he almost might even have been successful in his escape had one of his breathing tubes not dislodged upon impact with the water's surface. As it was, the air he had gasped in as he went over the railing had flooded his gills. He had coughed, sputtered, and choked long enough for Holly to easily wrangle him back to shore.

Artemis looked down at his hand and grimaced, curling his fingers into a fist as the elf gave a smirk that would not be out of place on her human friend's face. Nonetheless, she stopped tapping, and so did he.

"Now that you've gotten that escape attempt out of your system," began Artemis. He was trying desperately to get the consultation back on track as, even though he had expected that small distraction, they were still behind schedule. "Can we discuss, in more detail, your involvement with the Norwegian hacktivists? I need to know exactly what information you sent them."

"Well, they didn't know about the People, if that's what you're asking about? The humans thought they were, um, playing some sort of game. Didn't take it seriously, at all, most of 'em."

"One of them must have taken it seriously, though," insisted Artemis. The water sprite shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess. There was one girl who seemed a bit too into the whole thing? Contacted me, wanted some more info, and said she didn't wanna do anything with it, just get an edge over the other players? Yeah, I thought it was funny, you humans and your games, so I sent it along. Some blueprints."

"The security system," said Holly. Artemis nodded.

"If Becquerel Jones was also looking for the People, it's not implausible that he and Demia may have crossed paths and pooled information. Jones did not share the satellite records with her, but she gave him the security system blueprints. Interesting."

"Humans and your games," repeated Caltrop, folding his arms.

"Which means LEPfoul is authorized to intervene here, as we were already involved in the Jones case," noted Holly.

"Jones kept his findings to himself. That's good - that means it's unlikely we'll find this particular security breach to have wider consequences, as long as she has only sent the blueprints to him. This can be contained. They're both working in relative isolation, and there's unlikely to be much trust between them. Somebody of Carter's intelligence must have known that Jones was holding information back."

"So, we shut this down here and it goes away?" asked Holly, her arm starting to ache from keeping Caltrop restrained.

"Essentially."

-x-

"What do you mean, shut this down here and make it go away?" Holly spluttered, barely a quarter hour later.

Commander Kelp glared at her from her helmet's screen. "I mean exactly that. I set up this department to contain problems - _not_ to create new ones. I don't want to know what you hope to uncover in Sackville. I don't want to know why there was an explosion in Jones's residence yesterday. And I certainly do not want to know why the water sprite you arrested is currently on the surface instead of the holding cells. Jones has gone missing. Mind-wipe the girl before she disappears as well, retrieve the information, and get the convict _back belowground." _

"Which one?" she asked sourly.

"All of them!"

Holly glanced past the image of her commanding officer to the convicts in question. Caltrop was listening skeptically to Mulch, who had taken it upon himself to advise the water sprite on prison life. "Sir, shouldn't we interview her first to find out what the information was for?"

Kelp was unimpressed. "It won't matter after the mind-wipe. I am serious when I say I want you - _and the convicts _- back belowground as soon as possible, if not before. Understood?"

Holly tried not to scowl. "Understood, sir."

He hesitated for an instant before his expression softened. "D'arvit - Holly, you're making me sound like Root!" And then, before she could reply, Kelp ended the call.

"A pity he hung up before you could remind him that there are worse people to sound like," remarked Artemis, who had - naturally - been eavesdropping on the call. And then, "Wait. Do you think he considers me to be a convict, as well?"

-x-

"Does she really think that's what gnomes look like?"

"I'm fairly certain that's what most humans imagine gnomes to look like," replied Artemis, turning the lawn ornament over in his hands. It had already been disabled by the signal jammer that still sat nestled in his pocket, but he wanted to take a look at the security system all the same. "Interesting."

"I wish you'd stop saying that." Holly had not taken their new orders well - shielded, she hovered two feet away and grumbled into her helmet. "Haven't you learned yet that it never ends well when you say that?"

"No, look. She had the same security blueprints as Jones, yet unlike him, she never implemented them. So while she is technically proficient enough to improve the town's systems within human standards after the Technocrash, yet fairy technology is beyond her. If she could have used it, she would have. That's a good sign." Artemis looked up. "It means Jones is the only one who was actively building fairy technology, and since we know he was not inclined to share his findings with others, it is confirmation that this situation really can be contained."

"Then let's contain it," Holly sighed.

Artemis responded by replacing the garden gnome and brushing off his hands. "Her room will be around back, and I doubt she'll be asleep."

Holly didn't answer. Artemis looked up, wondering if she'd already started toward the house. A beat of four taps on the grip of an invisible neutrino assured him otherwise. _Someone else is close enough to hear_, he realized, and turned on his heel.

"Is the talking to yourself supposed to be an eccentric genius sort of thing? Because it's not the sort of thing I do, but I don't think I'm that eccentric, not really?" said Demia from beneath the tree. "And you were right - I'm not asleep. Thanks for the concern - insomnia is so terrible, isn't it?"

All of this was said with a single breath. The pauses in her speech were for emphasis only, and her hands fluttered as she spoke. Artemis took a moment to be grateful that she hadn't wanted to speak to him earlier - apparently talking was something she did quite well.

"Yes, I'd imagine it would be," he said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the faintest shimmer as Holly moved slowly into position. Slowly, so as to not disturb the air and warn Demia.

"I noticed you were looking at my garden gnomes. So clever, aren't they? My idea, of course. I think it's spectacularly fitting." She looked at him sharply. "You're here because you're a changeling too, aren't you?"

Artemis was at a loss for words. "Am I supposed to understand this terminology?"

"You know, changelings. Fairy mythology. My dad's a professor of the stuff, that's how I figured it out. Obviously I'm much too clever to be a true human."

By now, Artemis had lost sight of Holly. He sighed, and Demia bounced on her heels.

"What, you don't believe me? You've gotta know what changelings are - I mean, you're here, so you must know! Wouldn't it explain so much, if kids like me were actually magic? My dad told me all kinds of stories about how fairy babies got swapped for normal ones, and then the fairy kids grew up feeling like they didn't actually belong anywhere, and maybe there's some truth to it!" Her eyes were afire, and her chin jutted out in a posture of defiance. "Go on, tell me I'm wrong!"

"I understand the concept of changelings," Artemis replied mildly.

"Then you agree!" She skipped forward across the lawn, nearly running over Holly. "Bec said I couldn't trust you but I think you feel out of place, too. _Don't you?"_

Artemis looked at her in bewilderment and had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth - and then Demia crumpled to the ground.

"It's okay, Mud Boy," said Holly as she replaced her neutrino in its holster, unshielding with a smirk. "We can all be outcasts together."

-x-

The first rays of dawn were beginning to bleed over the horizon as the rented SUV finally found the highway. The actual mind wipe had gone quickly enough - they would have left Sackville hours ago, had it not been for Mulch's insistence upon leaving a parting gift.

It had turned out that Sackville had just one 24-hour convenience store, located on the opposite side of town, that carried maple syrup. It was only once the jar was left in a place of honor upon Demia's bedside table that the dwarf agreed it was time to go.

"Oh, relax, Holly! Her brain will come up with some perfectly reasonable reason for it to be there!" reassured Mulch, for the eighth time. "Besides, everybody knows syrup is a Canadian delicacy! We're only being polite! Which is also a Canadian thing!" Everybody present knew that, by this point, he was actively trying to be annoying. It was working.

"She won't know that we were there. We were supposed to not leave any traces behind. _And_ _you are not Canadian_," hissed the elf in response. Again.

Thrilling as that conversation was, Artemis was relieved when his phone rang and gave him an excuse to properly ignore them. "Hello?"

"Artemis. I ran the numbers you gave me and I do have some insights on this girl. Remarkably intelligent for her age - knows the internet well enough to have erased nearly every trace. If you wouldn't mind, I have some ideas about how to approach her -"

Artemis coughed awkwardly. "Yes, thank you, Minerva. We've actually dealt with her already."

The silence on the other end was not encouraging. Then, her voice as cold as the Canadian night, "You've already dealt with her?"

"That is correct."

"You specifically contacted me for consultation and then dealt with the situation before I could give you my insights - and did not even bother to tell me about it?"

Artemis sighed. "I apologize, Minerva. It's been a long day."

"A long day, has it? Longer than mine as I analyzed your problem?"

"Minerva -"

"Incidentally, I came to a sobering conclusion during this analysis. This girl, Demia. And her friend in the States whom I assume you are already aware of -?"

"Yes."

"Artemis, I've believed for a long time that kids are getting smarter, but _this_ is just impossible. Statistically speaking, even controlling for population growth, there should be no more than one or two living human individuals with IQs as high as ours. Furthermore, the fact that we both became interested in the People was remarkable, and even more unlikely. And then there's your brother Myles - his intelligence is excusable only because he's been tainted by association with you. But now Demia, and this friend of hers, Becquerel? It's statistically impossible. There must be some underlying factor."

Artemis nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "I was afraid you would mention that."

"Oh?" And then, fiercely, "Artemis Fowl, if you contacted me just to receive confirmation that this correlation is alarming, I'll -"

"Stop right there. I guarantee whatever you were about to threaten me with, I've heard worse."

She conceded the point. "True. Knowing you, you have. And objectively, I can understand that you needed me to reach this conclusion independently to validate your own theory. All the same -" She huffed a sigh and didn't finish her thought. "Just keep me aware of the situation, please? I would appreciate staying in the loop on this one."

"Understandable," Artemis replied. "Although I can't guarantee I can tell you everything due to restrictions of my own position."

"Because you always follow rules and regulations to the letter," she retorted.

-x-

They parted ways at the airstrip, Holly still holding Caltrop firmly by the collar. Like every other facet of this particular escapade, it did not go exactly as planned.

"I'm not returning to Ireland," announced Artemis. "At least, not right away."

"You're supposed to be grounded," reminded Butler.

"The situation changed. Becquerel Jones has disappeared."

"And I don't think you understand how 'grounded' works."

"It's not relevant. Jones is missing, and Minerva brought up a point that I had also been concerned about. I need to run some numbers and it will go much more quickly - with a much greater degree of accuracy - if I have access to fairy databases to do it. I'm returning belowground with Holly and the others."

"Is this about what you mentioned earlier, when you were on the phone, about other smart kids?" glubbed Caltrop. He struggled once, weakly, against Holly's grip. The elf held firm.

"Fantastic," said Mulch, fixating on that concept. "That's exactly the thing we need, _more _human kids running around convinced they're changelings. Well...I guess it could be worse. At least this latest one didn't try to kidnap anybody. Maybe _Changelings_ is an improvement?"

"Changelings," repeated Artemis, under his breath. "You realize Demia's father lied to her? Changeling folklore is not very nice at all."

"I know. Neither are you humans, so maybe she got that one right after all," grumbled Mulch.

"What about me?" asked Caltrop, quaking at the thought of returning to the cells where Lucia presumably continued her reign of terror. "Did you all forget about me?"

"Back to jail, Chlorella." Holly failed to be sympathetic. In fairness to her, she still had not recovered entirely from the last time Artemis had been belowground.

"Perhaps not - I heard that LEPfoul is in need of a new intern? Our old one only lasted five hours," said Artemis. "Maybe some kind of agreement can be reached."

Holly glared at him, and Artemis pointedly tapped his index finger twice against his leg. _The sprite is honest, adapts well to chaos, and seems to annoy Holly. Also, if we are able to prevent him from facing legal recourse for his actions, he will be in our debt. A perfect addition to the team._

And then, _wait. Since when did I think in terms of being part of a team?_ His hand drifted to the coin in his pocket, nestled snugly beside his LEP badge. _Apparently, there's a first time for everything_.

-x-

Next Time:

_EPISODE 1.05: RIPOSTE - __Artemis and Holly bicker while taking down an arrogant Korean fencer. The Changeling problem gets worse._

-x-

_**Author's Notes:**_

Sorry for the wait in getting this episode up, and sorry for all the exposition! We needed to set up the situation for the rest of the series, and that took a lot longer than we thought it would. If you feel like this episode needs a TL;DR, here it is:

Butler has heart problems, Holly has intern problems, Artemis and Minerva have a serious case of passive-aggression, Caltrop has gill tank problems, LEPfoul has Changeling problems, and Mulch has problems understanding what "Canadian" means.

Everybody has Lucia problems, and our spell-checker doesn't think "Canadian" is a real word. Some of these problems are more relevant than others. Thank you, as always, for bearing with us! And thanks for reading and reviewing - as Winged says, you make our world go 'round! -Freud

As Freud mentioned, this was an exposition-heavy episode. Sorry about that. The next one will be more of an action-y adventure, I promise.

And thank you all once again for your responses to previous chapters! We both love talking to you all about thoughts and characters and the like. (You may have noticed, we're both a bit wordy!) Cheers! - Winged


	5. 1045: Sass

WEBISODE 1: SASS

_In which the team continues to grow._

-x-

"I still don't understand why you couldn't have done this from aboveground," Holly complained. Her attitude had grown sour during the trip back below the earth. This may or may not have been due to the human that had accompanied her on the shuttle. It may also have had something to do with Caltrop's current situation, huddled in the corner muttering to himself as he attempted to decipher the instructions written on the side of the coffee machine.

Artemis, seated at the same table he had earlier used to disassemble that very machine, gave a faint shrug. He'd already made the conscious decision to ignore the water sprite entirely. There was work to be done.

"Because the Techno-Crash presented an opportunity, and anybody with sufficient intelligence would recognize that. I know if I had..." Here Artemis faltered, examining his hands for a moment before continuing to speak in a lowered voice, "If I had survived the event unscathed, I would have taken full advantage of the chance to improve multiple systems and interfaces while nobody would object to the changes. I also know that's exactly what Minerva and Demia both did."

"So, why don't you use your own -"

"If my own systems were not taken entirely offline by the Crash, I would have been able to trace back several different metrics to determine areas of accelerated technological growth and singular innovation. In doing so, with any luck I'd have been able to pinpoint the individuals behind each anomaly. Unfortunately, my systems were destroyed that day and remained offline for the next six months. The best I can hope to do is sift through the scattered reports Foaly's machines were able to compile retroactively. It's nowhere near a comprehensive search, but does provide a starting point. I could do this remotely, you're correct on that count, but as it stands I've already been granted access to Foaly's records so I may as well take advantage of it. There's no need to work around the centaur's encryptions, so it's infinitely faster to work directly from the data itself. In addition, if Jones turns up I want to be able to respond quickly, and the People's shuttle system is the most reliable form of transportation I know. We are still on his case, correct?"

"As far as I know. But you know as well as I do that he's gone to ground. We won't be seeing him again until he wants us to."

"Of course. Still, best to be prepared for the contingency."

"And don't think I missed that earlier, about you being grounded."

He grinned. "Precisely. Interspecies police work does provide a nice excuse to ignore that particularity."

Across the room, the coffee machine emitted a pulse of blistering steam. Caltrop squealed, and neither of his arresting officers bothered to look up. It was Holly who finally relented with a sigh, though her head did not turn.

"You alright, convict?"

"Oh, yeah!" squeaked Caltrop, who had gone the color of a freshly-boiled shrimp. "Just peachy."

-x-

"When I said 'get the convicts back belowground,'" said a tight-lipped Kelp, "I thought it was implied that _that one _was perfectly fine where he was."

Artemis looked down, offended, to where his commanding officer had jabbed at him. Even standing on tiptoe, Kelp could only reach to the middle of the human's chest.

Holly coughed. "You're going to have to be more specific with your orders, then, _sir_," she said brightly. "Unless you'd rather transfer me out and put someone else in charge of this department?"

"_No_."

-x-

Holly stopped short in the entrance to the boiler room, staring with displeasure at a message that had just come through her wrist computer. "Artemis, do you remember the original definition of 'intern' that you gave me?"

The human looked up from his work, mildly irritated at the distraction. "Yes. An employee requiring on the job training - what of it?"

"And would you say that we've got enough of that to deal with?" Holly looked over her shoulder to where Caltrop was sitting on his desk, headphones blaring. After the disaster with the coffee machine, he'd given up on being productive for the day. To be fair, that suited both his bosses just fine - neither of them were in the mood to walk him through the steps of how to actually pour a cup of coffee. This was turning out to be a common problem.

"Enough on the job training? Yes, I would assume that we are - wait. Please tell me you aren't inferring-" The inbox notification showed up mid-sentence, and Artemis brought the message to the forefront of his laptop screen with a swipe of his finger. "Foaly has got to be doing this on purpose."

"Agreed."

Their new intern was a young centaur that Holly had already had the misfortune of meeting. Her name was Pihassas, she was Foaly's niece, and he had made the mistake of dragging her to one of the LEP's annual summer picnics several years back. The ensuing incident was still talked about around water coolers.

"See," Pihassas proclaimed as she trotted in the door three hours later (and four hours late for the start of her first official training shift), "I'm only here because the LEP makes you do a stupid internship requirement before you go into the squad you really want."

"Which would be?" said Holly, already fighting a headache. The neon purple shade of the centaur's mane wasn't helping, and she made a mental note to double-check LEP dress code policies for interns. She needn't have bothered - from behind his laptop, Artemis was putting on quite a show of looking entirely absorbed in his work while actually searching for an answer to that exact same question.

"I wanna get on one of the teams that busts gangs. That seems like it'd be exciting, y'know?" Pihassas shrugged. "And anybody who calls me 'Pihassas' gets trampled, fair warning right now. It's 'Sass.'"

"Yes, I bet it is. You've never actually met a gang member." It wasn't a question. Inwardly, Holly was seething. Clearly, LEP hiring standards had fallen dramatically in the decades since she'd first applied. Either that, or the brass were actively hoping that Pihassas' stint with LEPfoul would scare her away from law enforcement altogether. She decided to fervently hope for the second option.

"Well, duh. Do you really think I'd be here if I had any other way to get where I wanted to go?" Sass looked around the cluttered boiler room with a toss of her mane. "I mean, _look _at this place."

"I know, right?" Caltrop straightened, kicking out his feet from his perch on the edge of his desk. "It's awful! I'm Cal, by the way."

"And I don't care, by the way." Sass snorted. "So, what exactly is it that you do around here?"

-x-

**OUTBOX:**

Foaly;

I had set up a program to analyse the technical development of human communities over the past six months, only to discover that your systems had mistakenly flagged it as a virus. I have already taken the liberty of ensuring your systems will not make that mistake again; in return, I request that you upgrade my permissions. Thank you.

-Artemis

**INBOX:**

Artemis,

Hm, that's odd. Generally my systems only respond to pieces of code worming their way around information I did not want them to access. I can't imagine how they made that mistake.

- Foaly

-x-

**INBOX:**

Arty,

If you're spending another night underground, we need to get you an apartment.

-H

**OUTBOX:**

Holly;

I imagine I will be spending plenty of nights belowground, given the current status of the Changeling problem. Do you have any suggestions on location?

-Artemis

**INBOX:**

Arty,

Anywhere but my couch.

-H

-x-

**INBOX**:

Pihassas,

Do you have any idea how to synchronize our folders with the rest of the department's? I'm pretty sure the system should have automatically given us access to files and the like, but I can't sort out how to activate it.

-Caltrop

**OUTBOX**:

Squirt,

What did I say bout calling me that? and trampling? esp. the TRAMPLING?!

-SASS

**INBOX**:

Sass,

Never mind. I figured out a better way to fix the problem.

-Cal

-x-

**INBOX:**

Artemis Fowl II,

I imagine you are already hard at work with the new department and, while wishing you all the best, would also like to inquire as to how soon you wish to begin the research at the Haven Library Archives. I am currently on sabbatical from my teaching position at Haven College for research purposes and thus, my schedule is my own. Due to this, I should be able to book an appointment to peruse the archives with you at your earliest convenience.

As I am sure somebody of your intellect would have already looked into my background, I feel the need to confess that I am especially eager to work with you due to my own academic interest in magically-induced temporal fluctuations. Your business partner, Holly Short, has already declined my requests for an interview several times. I don't need to remind you that your case is a unique one, and while I do not wish to make a nuisance of myself, any insight you can give me into your particular set of circumstances will be much appreciated!

Regards,

Professor Honkard D. Tweedir, K.H., W.M.M.

-x-

**INBOX:**

Holly,

How's Sass doing? Heard she was transferred to LEPfoul & figured she'd fit right in! :D

- Foaly

**OUTBOX:**

Foaly,

Ha. Haha.

- H

-x-

**INBOX: **

Arty,

What did I say about my couch? It's been DAYS.

-H

**OUTBOX:**

Holly;

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find an apartment that accommodates my height and location needs, while maintaining a basic degree of comfort?

-Artemis

P.S. I looked up the LEP's dress code regulations, and unfortunately there is no section about hair color, perhaps to avoid discrimination against different species. This means Pihassas's hair, sadly, is going to have to stay as it is.

**INBOX:**

Arty,

YOUR DEFINITION OF "BASIC" AND EVERYBODY ELSE'S DEFINITION OF "BASIC" ARE TWO DIFFERENT THINGS. If you are going apartment-hunting again tonight after work, I AM COMING WITH YOU. THIS ENDS.

-H

PS. Did you see her hair this morning? It's orange now. ORANGE. Clearly it is NOT going to "stay as it is."

-x-

**INBOX:**

Hey Captain Short,

Do interns receive vacation pay?

-Sass

**OUTBOX:**

Sass,

No, you do not.

-H

-x-

**OUTBOX:**

Professor Tweedir;

Thank you again for your offer. Unfortunately, my time is not quite as flexible as your own. That being said, would you be able to meet tomorrow morning for an introductory meeting to discuss my research objectives?

-Artemis

-X-

**INBOX:**

Arty,

You have been apartment-hunting for a week. One week. Seven days.

Do you care to explain to me exactly how it is you managed to get EVERY SINGLE LANDLORD IN THE CITY to warn each other about you?

If this were anybody else, I would be impressed. Only you, Fowl. Only you!

-H

-X-

**OUTBOX:**

Squirt

As your COWORKER i say we party hard tonite yes/yes?

Sass

-x-

The fluorescent lights of the Police Plaza basement were brighter this morning, Caltrop was sure. He was also fairly certain the boiler room's usual noises had increased in volume overnight. He already had a headache thanks to Sass's idea of a party the night before; the lights and cacophony were not helping.

The rest of the department was already hard at work by the time he slinked into the room. Holly was in the corner, arguing with a messenger sprite. On the other side of the room, Artemis was bent over his computer screen as usual. Even Sass had managed to arrive already; she waved cheerily at Cal before delivering a cup of sim-coffee to Artemis. The human ignored her.

Cal dragged himself toward his desk and stared regretfully at the mug in his hand until Sass trotted over. "You're chipper," he commented glumly.

"And you're glum," Sass retorted with a toss of her mane. She looked between him and his mug. "If you're so tired from last night, aren't you going to drink that?"

Cal gave his coffee another look. "No point. I got it from the break room."

"And?"

"Well, obviously the coffee you brewed in there was for Artemis and he only drinks decaf. So it won't be any help." He sighed pathetically.

Sass coughed. "About that."

He would have to brew another batch, Caltrop reflected glumly. Just because he'd finally tamed the coffee machine did not mean that he could replicate that triumph in his current state. Besides, it meant he would have to stand up again.

Sass was still talking. "'Cause I thought, after our talk last night - you know how you mentioned the decaf thing?"

Cal raised his head. "I mentioned what?"

"You know, how Foul only drinks decaf?"

The enormity of her words hit Caltrop over the head like an industrial-sized coffee maker. "Oh no. No no no! Glub - glu - go fix it right now!"

"Nope! I think I'd rather not!" she said, grinning. Both heads turned towards Artemis's desk, where their boss was just replacing his mug on the coaster. Caltrop ran through all possible scenarios and realized that none would end well.

"Come on," Cal hissed, and tugged at Sass's sleeve.

"No, I'm staying to watch," the centaur responded. "Hey, you're looking perky all of the sudden."

"It's - glub - the adrenaline," the watersprite answered and then, giving up on his fellow intern, fled the room.

-x-

The first Holly noticed of the imminent disaster was a rattling sound from across the LEPfoul office. It was low but steady, an unfamiliar hum beneath the usual metallic clatter that came from the boiler itself. She hadn't a clue as to when the sound began, but had spent the past half hour gradually becoming aware of it. Now, she couldn't ignore it.

"All right," the elf snapped at last. "What is that?"

Sass's head popped up and, behind her, Artemis jerked his head in Holly's direction. "Pardon?" the human asked coldly, adding a glare to remind Holly that she was interrupting his important work.

But Holly had found her source. Something about the twitchiness of Artemis's movements and his short, clipped tones - something about the way his desk appeared to be jiggling even now - "Artemis, you're shaking."

By the time Artemis had processed her words, looked down, discovered that she was correct, and rectified the situation, Holly had already crossed the room. "Four," she blurted without thinking, and didn't know whether to feel alarmed when she saw Artemis's eye twitch.

"It's not a relapse," the human said irritably. "Nothing like that. More of a - rush." He spoke rapidly, as though attempting to explain one of his madcap plans in under a minute. "I must have ingested something accidentally, something for which I do not have a built-up tolerance." His eyes flicked about the room, searching, analysing.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, that was when Caltrop decided to poke his head back in. He'd meant to check on the crisis and disappear immediately if it had not yet cleared; instead, he found the other three members of the department staring at him with varying levels of irritation. "Hey," he said weakly, and slunk into the room.

"The coffee," continued Artemis as though he had not noticed the disturbance, lifting his hands from the keyboard to examine them in vague irritation. "It must have been the coffee, which means -"

"Sass was the one who poisoned you!" blurted Caltrop, splaying his fingers out over his mouth as though to hold the words back in.

"No honor among cowards," muttered Holly. Sass ducked down. Unfortunately, the problem with an orange mane is the exact same as the reason one would dye their mane orange in the first place: it's impossible not to notice. Holly decided to deal with her later. As it stood, Artemis was absorbed in a failing attempt to keep his hand steady, staring at it with all the intensity of a dwarf evaluating a pile of dirt. Clearly, that was the more urgent situation. "Fowl, there's an uplink tube on the top shelf of the maintenance closet. Reach it down so we can see if there's some way to purge your system?"

"I doubt there is," said Artemis, still watching the back of his hand as though it held all the secrets of the universe. His thoughts were scattered, rolling in a myriad of directions in much the same manner as marbles dropped into a shoebox, ricocheting off the corners to collide together and careen in a new direction -

- which was an entirely unproductive metaphor, and only served to further his irritation. He stood up and crossed the room to the closet, reached for the box on the top shelf, paused. Knowing the amount of caffeine he had ingested was far from fatal, even for him, he was still surprised at the way his vision seemed to swim -

- no, not swim. That was simply his feet tapping against the ground, moving the rest of his body. _Oh_.

To her credit, Holly waited for Artemis to be clear of the threshold before she slammed the door shut behind him and swiped a thumb across the sensor to seal the lock. "Nobody's letting him out of there until he crashes. Are we clear?"

Caltrop gave an uncertain nod. Sass tapped a hoof against the closet door. "So, are we just going home now then, bosslady?"

"No," said the elf with a shrug. "Caltrop and I are going home early. I could report you for this, but instead I think it'd be a better punishment to clean up your own mess. Somebody's got to sit with him until this thing wears off, and the gods only know how long that will take." She grinned, and for a moment Sass could see clearly exactly why so few people were eager to mess with Holly Short. "I don't think he'll be happy with you when he can sit still long enough to glare."

"Is he trying to - is something burning?" Sass tossed her mane, turning to the door once more in a change of subject. "Is he trying to burn his way out?"

"I _can_ hear you," replied Artemis, irritated. His hand was too jittery to keep the beam of his laser pointer focused on the keyhole, and so he had only succeeded in welding the mechanism shut. Not that he would admit that for the time being.

"And you know what I'm _not_ going to be hearing tonight?" Now that she had weighed the options, the elf sounded quite chipper about the entire debacle. " You, waking me up at two in the morning because you fell off the couch."

-x-

Next Time:

_EPISODE 1.05: RIPOSTE - __Artemis and Holly bicker while taking down an arrogant Korean fencer. The Changeling problem gets worse._

-x-

_**Author's Notes**:_

Fine, you caught us - we began work on 1.05, but didn't get to finish it because Winged is going to be travelling abroad for the next little bit. Rather than have a huge gap in posting, we decided to post this mini-episode (we've been referring to it as a "webisode," to stay true to the TV-series format we started out with) to move the story forwards a little before she leaves. We'll be back when she is, and in the meantime I'll be responding to messages sent to this account. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing - you're awesome! Yes, you. You know who you are. -Freud


	6. 105: Riposte

**EPISODE 1.05: RIPOSTE**

_In hindsight, what happened next was nobody's proudest moment. The episode where nobody is dignified, everybody fails to find their happy place, and the Patented Fowl Glare becomes a proper noun._

-x-

ri·poste: _noun_ \ri-ˈpōst\

1: a fencer's quick return thrust following a parry 2: a retaliatory verbal sally - retort 3: a retaliatory maneuver or measure

~ Miriam-Webster Dictionary

-x-

It was a part of Holly Short's nature to be prepared for the worst case scenario. This had served her well in the field, as certain associates drew bad luck like a magnet to iron. Expecting the worst had become routine and, naturally, had extended to Holly's home life as well.

So it was that when Holly was woken at three in the morning to suspicious shuffling noises in the living room of her apartment, her hand went immediately to the bat she kept ready beneath the bed. In her defense, it was a very nice bat - all steel and chrome, and very sturdy. Of course, her defense was sort of the point.

A clatter sounded in the kitchen, instantly stifled by whoever was rooting through her stuff. Holly took advantage of the thief's apparent distraction to roll out of bed. The roll continued across the floor before she took position against the doorframe. Crouching with her bat at the ready, Holly reached out with her foot, nudging the door open with one toe. A deep breath to steel herself, and then she poked her head around the corner.

A dark shape was crouched on the floor next to her shelves. Holly took one more slow, deep breath, and then slipped through the door. Even half-asleep, Holly knew how to cross a room without being heard.

The intruder began to turn around. Holly raised the bat.

In hindsight, what happened next was nobody's proudest moment.

Artemis flew across the room, arms spinning as he crashed into the sofa he'd been sleeping on for the past week. The sofa rocked back under his weight before settling firmly back on its four legs. Holly lowered the bat.

"D'Arvit, Artemis!"

-x-

For all his intellect, Artemis was having a problem wrapping his brain around the fact that he'd just been hit with a bat yet his attacker claimed that it was his own fault. If he hadn't spent the last several hours meditating inside a closet, he would have been extremely irritated by this turn of events. Luckily, waiting out the aftereffects of a caffeine rush had given him ample opportunity to find his happy place.

This mindset lasted until she insisted his confinement to a supply closet was his own fault, too. In fact, Holly's first question - once she had made sure he wasn't seriously injured by the impact (and apparently the beginnings of a rather spectacular set of bruises didn't count as "seriously," either) - had been how on earth he convinced Sass to let him out. By way of reply, he passed an armful of files to the elf.

"These came in about an hour ago. Preliminary results of the scans I've been pulling out of Foaly's systems."

"And they couldn't wait until morning?"

Artemis frowned. "I was willing to wait until you attacked me with a cricket bat. But seeing as we are both awake now, I don't see any point in the delay."

Holly leveled a look at him that would have sent any lesser coworker scurrying for cover. When Artemis merely pulled out a chair at her kitchen table and sat down with his eyebrow raised in expectation, she gave in. "What am I looking at here?" she asked, attempting to shuffle through the pages before dropping them in a heap on the table.

"Technological advancements." He caught the expression on her face and hurried to add, "The data - not the papers. To save time, I staggered my searches based on population density, and uncovered an apartment block in Singapore that is drawing nearly six hundred percent too much power from the grid for it's size and occupancy. Despite this, the structure does not appear on any municipal records. Singapore plans urban development very carefully, as approximately 85% of the city's population lives in government housing. Given the vast number of permits and building codes to be followed, then, it's impossible that this is a simple oversight. My systems automatically cross-referenced this location with census data, and -"

Holly cut him off by yawning loudly. "Fascinating stuff that could have waited until morning. And how did you get in here, anyways? _I changed the locks._"

"I noticed that. Thank you." His expression suggested the exact opposite of gratitude. "The point is, I know who we're looking for."

He paused in an attempt to make her to ask for clarification. Instead, the elf just crossed her arms and waited. A minor staring contest ensued, broken only when she yawned again. "Great. And they'll still be there in the morning."

"Actually, no. The individual in question, one Park Myung-Ki, is a top-seeded foil fencer. He is a favorite for Singapore's Olympic team; were it not for disqualification due to age, he would have competed in the last Games. As it is, Myung-Ki flies out this afternoon to attend a tournament -" Artemis paused for emphasis, "In America. If we take the first shuttle out, we will be able to intercept him; if not, it will be weeks before he returns home."

Holly rolled her eyes and strode back into the living room to retrieve her bat from where she'd dropped it next to the shelves. "That settles it, then."

Artemis noticeably flinched as she picked it up. "Settles what?"

Holly hefted the bat and gave a sigh. "We're going to Singapore."

-x-

Dodo Feldspar had been fired from every job she had ever had.

This was due not to poor job performance. Rather, it was her personal policy: Never quit anything. Ever. She was a dwarf, and felt wishy-washiness was a rather unbecoming trait for anybody to possess. When she decided it was time to change careers, rather than submit a notice or request for transfer to another department, Dodo simply dove headlong into a campaign to convince her superiors to fire her.

She was now on job number eight, working nighttime security at one of Haven's many public shuttleport docking stations, and had decided two months ago that it was time to move on. Her boss felt otherwise; until two months ago her work had been exemplary, and he still hoped that whatever had happened to his star employee would prove to be transient.

Dodo had other plans. She surveyed the mismatched duo before her, and grinned. Here, she knew, was a golden opportunity to make a point.

"Are you nuts?" hissed her pixie coworker, Jax.

"Oh, I know. You'd have to be a complete moron not to recognize the two of them." Her grin widened. Jax decided it would be in his best interests to go on break - he didn't want any blame for what was about to ensue.

-x-

"You'd have to be a complete moron not to recognize the two of us," Artemis said coldly. "I've played along with your game, I've given you my papers. I'm on a tight schedule and this is a waste of time."

The dwarf hummed non-committally and shuffled the documents again. "Do you think I'm stupid?" she asked, "A human coming through at this time of night? _A human? _I don't know what you're trying to pull but it's not going to happen. Not on my watch." She smiled broadly, displaying a magnificent set of teeth.

Holly grit her own teeth together and slid her badge across the table for the third time. "Look. I'm LEP. This is official business."

Dodo waved a hand to gesture to the badge pinned lopsidedly to her vest. "Look. I'm security. This is as official as it gets."

"That's it," growled Holly, pushing her chair back from the table to stand up. "I'm phoning my superior. He will talk to your superior, whom I doubt will enjoy the conversation. Your superior will then have a talk with you, and you will proceed to open this gate and let us through. Any questions?"

"And when my superior refuses to open this gate," said Dodo brightly, "Make sure you tell your superior to take his official documentation and shove it up his -"

Artemis chose that moment to cut in. "As interesting as I'm sure that would be to watch, we are on a schedule." He stood up. "We've shown our documents. There is no legal reason to hold us here. We're going through and you won't -"

It was Holly who saw the danger first, as usual. Her fingers rapped a pattern of four on the table's surface. Artemis interpreted this as a warning to shut up and, surprisingly, did.

It was actually a warning to duck. Dodo's buzz baton hit him square across the nose.

-x-

"Do, you are dot allowed do fid id. You'b done enoub."

"Fowl? You sound ridiculous. Shut up."

They were in the bathroom of the shuttle as it made its way up to the surface. Artemis was busy inspecting his broken nose in the mirror while attempting to use one hand to keep Holly at bay. The elf, in contrast, was attempting to reach a hand to his nose for a magical quick fix.

Artemis reached for a towel to clean the blood off his face and Holly took her chance. Darting forward, she nearly made contact before Artemis jumped back out of reach. The ensuing scuffle was anything but dignified, as Artemis attempted to use the hand towel as a shield against the determined elf.

"Dug?" Artemis yelped in the midst of it all. "Why wud four tabs mean _dug!?"_

Holly swatted at him again, and missed. She glowered. "Four taps mean _watch out_, which you obviously did not!"

She finally gained the upper hand by clambering up onto the sink. For a moment the elf paused, taking aim. Artemis's eyes widened in the realization that there was nothing he could do to stop what was coming.

Holly lunged, hands outstretched.

The two of them ended in a heap on the floor. There was an instant of stunned silence, shattered when his nose snapped loudly back into place. It was a gruesome sound, and even though she was a veteran at healing broken bones, it still made her wince.

It was as though the sound was a signal. They sprang apart at the same time, at which point Holly knocked her head against the counter. She looked up and met Artemis's eyes sheepishly. "You still have some..." she began, gesturing vaguely at his face to indicate the blood that remained.

Artemis buried his face in the towel and counted to five. When he finally lowered the towel to peer over at the elf, his voice was pure ice. "Next time you need me to duck, it _might_ be more effective to say so."

-x-

"Hey, who finally gave up and punched the Mud Boy?"

Sass sounded far too chipper for such an early morning, especially considering that she had been awake for half the night. She was met by the Patented Fowl Glare - this time in stereo, as Holly had adopted the expression as well. It translated well considering the conversation was taking place over a video link. The camera managed to catch every detail, right down to Holly's rumpled hair and the blood stain on Artemis's shirt.

"Caltrop," said Holly after a moment of awkward silence. "What's that behind you?"

The watersprite shifted to the side to reveal a rather dumpy looking gnome. "It's an, uh, intern. A new one. Erm, I mean, it's not an intern that's Sass or myself, but - uh - a new one that just kind of showed up this morning? Um..." His words trailed off.

"Well, can you tell it to go away?" When nobody spoke, the Glare returned until Caltrop slowly turned around to face his new coworker.

"Um, go away?" The gnome reluctantly moved out of frame as Caltrop twisted his hands nervously. "So how is Singapore?" he asked with forced cheer. "Sass mentioned that was where you were, um, headed?"

Holly's mouth twisted sourly. Artemis's eye twitched. "Just tell Foaly to get on the line," he bit out, before ending the call.

Sass laughed and turned away from the camera. "Free time in the office!" she brayed, and caught sight of the gnome glowering in the corner. "Oh, don't worry, we'll train you."

-x-

"Singapore. Why am I not surprised?"

Artemis twisted his earpiece as Foaly's voice came on the line. "Yes, Singapore," he sighed. "You have our location?"

"How did you even get there so fast?" Foaly asked. "I saw you both in the office just last night. Weren't you locked in a closet or something?"

Holly smirked. "Yes, Foaly. He was."

Artemis was poking at his earpiece. "Are you having trouble with the line? Your voice is cutting out."

"I hear him just fine," Holly noted smugly. "Maybe you broke your earpiece. Could be a trend, you breaking things."

Artemis was not amused. "If it broke, it was probably when you jumped me."

"Wait, she did what?" Down in the operations booth, Foaly perked up.

"Never mind," growled Holly. "We're here now. Fowl's convinced he's found another Changeling, I've got the field kit ready to go. We'll go in, wipe the kid, and be gone within the hour. I just need you to erase us from the feed, Foaly."

Artemis frowned. "I never said I was convinced. I said I thought it was likely."

"You dragged me to Singapore on a hunch?"

"And you're surprised by this?" piped in Foaly. He was promptly ignored.

"I don't have hunches. I create theories. And I needed to be on-site to determine whether my _theory_ was correct."

"You dragged me to Singapore on a _theory?"_

By this point, Foaly had hung up. He _theorized_ they would call him back when they sorted out a course of action. After two minutes had gone by without either earpiece lighting up, he tentatively reopened the line.

" - just like with the squid -!"

"That is completely irrelevant -"

Foaly sighed heavily and hung up once more. He'd wait until later to ask who finally gave up and punched the Mud Boy. Whoever they were, he made a mental note to see if they were in the market for a new job. After all, he didn't imagine LEPfoul's new intern would last for long.

-x-

Foil fencing was an intelligent sport, and that was why Park Myung-Ki preferred to channel his energies into such an athletic pursuit. This was something that could not be said about all sports; in fact, he was of the opinion that most of them consisted of nothing more than smacking an air-filled sphere about a flat field of turf until either one group or another managed to attain some obligatory goal, or until a clock ran down to end the spectacle. Foil fencing had three advantages going for it, then: it was an individual contest, it was elegant, and it was _smart_.

He was also of the opinion that foils were the only weapons worth fencing with. Sabres were undeniably less elegant - hits could be scored with the edge of the blade, and not merely the tip, and so one spent more time attempting to avoid contact with their opponent altogether rather than in attempting to outmaneuver them. By the same token, he'd always found épée blades too heavy, placing too much emphasis on brute physical strength and offensive showboating rather than carefully controlled maneuvers. He was a strategist, after all, and so anything less than a strategist's game simply wouldn't do.

Yes, Myung-Ki was a teenager of very discerning taste, and he knew he was born to be a foil fencer. It was half a wonder that he did not decide to take up chess or some other purely intellectual pursuit, but then, he always did enjoy getting his hands dirty.

One thing he never did convince himself to enjoy, however, was packing. Tournaments were wonderful; preparation for them less so. After all, he was still a teenager. Clothes were tossed into the suitcase with little care or precision, with a selection of light reading shoved into the outer pockets. His fencing gear was placed in a duffle; Myung-Ki did take effort to organize this, as each piece was vital to his success.

His best foils were handled with extreme care due to the advanced technology he had incorporated into their systems. He'd come up with the schematics himself, based on designs he'd lifted from the alien civilization that had taken up residence in the Earth's crust. The technology would enable Myung-Ki to gain extra points in a fencing match, should he ever begin to fall behind.

It was against regulations to use one's own foil in the tournaments, of course, but Myung-Ki had long ago come to the conclusion that switching out the foils was merely the next step in such an intense game of wits. Besides, the alien technology was near-undetectable to any who wasn't looking for it. A fool-proof method to ensure he would attain his top status in order to make the next Olympic team.

Besides, even if he were found out, nobody would suspect the technology's true origin. The ensuing scandal would rock the fencing community, to be sure, and he would proceed to make a fortune off the ensuing patents.

Fool-proof, indeed.

-x-

"And this is the boiler unit," Caltrop told the new intern, bringing his tour of the LEPfoul offices to a close. He patted one of the pipes in faux-affection and hissed at the subsequent burn. "Don't - uh, don't touch the metal," he added as blue sparks sprang from his fingertips to target the injury.

The gnome rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. His expression implied that only a complete idiot would think to touch the pipes of a boiler unit. Caltrop saw this, interpreted it correctly, and turned to Sass for help only to find that the centaur was asleep at her desk.

"For Frond's sake," the watersprite hissed, and stalked across the office to poke at his fellow intern. "Sass, wake up. Sass. _Pihassas_."

Her eyes flew open at the sound of her full name. "You'd better not have just said what I think you just said."

Caltrop backtracked nervously. "Said what? I was just, er, saying your n-name. Sass. Because that's what I call you. Because I _don't_ have a death wish."

"He called you Pihassas," tattled the gnome, choosing this moment to reveal that he could actually speak if so inclined.

Caltrop exercised his right as most senior intern by glaring at the gnome. "You - sit down," he said firmly, before adding, "Uh, if you'd like."

The gnome didn't move. Cal turned back to Sass, who was stretching and yawning loudly. "I was having a great dream, you know," she said irritably. "I was on the gang squad, taking down a pack of goblins." She mimed aiming a blaster, making sound effects as though firing. "Pew! Pew! It was awesome."

"That's great," Cal said weakly. "Do you want to show, uh... " He turned back to the gnome. "What was your name again?"

The gnome leveled him a steady glare and said nothing.

"Um. Show our new intern the coffee machine?"

"Do you _know_ how rough my night was?" Sass asked with a flip of her mane. "I was up half the night babysitting Artemis! It wasn't so bad most of the time - I just played some games on my computer - but then his machine made some noise and he was hounding me to check results and find a key and then it turned out that the lock had fused and I had to go hunting for one of those emergency fire axes but by the time I got back, he'd already gotten out and disappeared."

Caltrop was interested in spite of himself. "How did he get out?"

Sass shrugged and waved a hand to the closet, where the door was still half-open. "I dunno. Used a laser to cut out the lock of the door or something? Don't ask me how he got a laser in there. Left his desk in a mess, too."

Nodding sympathetically, Caltrop turned his gaze to the boss's desk. Sure enough, the papers were scattered over the surface, as if the caffeine had still not completely left Artemis's system when he attempted to flip through his files. Even the cup of pens had been knocked over, although Cal suspected that was Sass's fault.

The mess did give him an idea, though. "Tell you what," he said to the gnome. "Enough with the tour. You get started on cleaning up that mess and I'll go make everyone some coffee."

With one last glower, the gnome shuffled toward the desk. Cal smiled brightly at Sass. "I think I'm getting a sense of this whole intern-training thing," he whispered proudly.

"I think I'm going back to sleep," retorted Sass.

-x-

There was a section in the LEP handbook that specifically told team operatives to stay on one channel throughout the course of a mission. Holly had skimmed the handbook briefly. Artemis had read it once, thought it was a load of drivel, and never referred to it again. This wouldn't have mattered if Foaly had not decided to put his copy to good use by propping up one leg of a lopsided desk.

Thus, when Artemis and Holly finally split up yet continued to bicker over the comm link, Foaly made an executive decision and put them on separate lines. It meant wearing two headsets at once, which he didn't mind. It also meant listening to two streams of complaints from either side, which he minded quite a lot. Luckily, Foaly had had plenty of practise in sustaining conversation without actually paying any attention to the topic at hand.

"...as if he knows everything! I understand technology is important but you can't figure everything out by looking at a panel of switches and wiring. Sooner or later you're going to have to question an actual person. And _I_ can't do it, which means I have to sit around and babysit the kid while Artemis plays around with wires. It's a waste of time!"

"Uh huh," said Foaly. "Hang on a sec, would you?" He reached up and turned the right headset off, before flicking the left on. "Find the electrical panel yet, Artemis?"

"Not quite. There was more security around the basement than I'd anticipated, although I have managed to bypass it, of course. Obviously, someone doesn't want people looking at the schematics of the building's technology, which means I was right to come here first. You'd better let Holly know. I don't know why she insisted on finding Park first when this is what we came to check. And I've finally managed to access the panel - one moment while I confirm my _theory_." The last two syllables dripped with sarcasm.

"Right," Foaly said. "Hold on a minute, there." And he switched the lines back to Holly's channel. "Fowl said he's found what he's looking for, and he was correct about the -"

"Great. Tell him to destroy the fairy tech, and get back up here." She folded her arms with a snarl, watching through the window as Myung-Ki loaded his duffel bag with various fencing equipment. "Park's getting ready to move."

"I'm not your messenger," Foaly whinnied, but switched back to Artemis's channel all the same. "Holly says-"

"Tell her I'm not planting an EMP in the basement of a currently inhabited building," said the human without looking up from the control panel. "Somebody would surely notice. As important as it is to remove any trace of fairy technology, _I am sure Holly would agree_ that it's more important to do so without being detected, and -"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Unhappily, Foaly raised one hand to each ear, switching both comms off at the same time. A deep breath, and then another, as the centaur tried in vain to find his happy place. Instead, he found himself internally cussing out Commander Kelp for even approving LEPfoul in the first place.

A good long moment passed before he reluctantly turned them back on. Taking off first one headset, and then the other, he set them both deliberately down on the desk before him. Satisfied, his tail swished behind him as he left the comms booth. Holly and Artemis would be able to hear one another over the distance between the headsets, and hold down the fort on their own for a minute.

_I have SO earned a cup of coffee._

-x-

Really, he'd expected Foaly to stop replying to him sooner. It was just like the centaur to pout, after all. So when he stopped responding to Artemis's running commentary as he closed the control panel once more, the human didn't worry.

"I'm going back upstairs now," he announced to the empty room, reaching to adjust his tie. It was a futile gesture, as there hadn't been time to wash the blood from it; he'd simply removed the tie and shoved it in his briefcase for later cleaning. At a younger age, Artemis would have never considered such an act. Older and wiser, he had more or less resigned himself to the fact that it seemed to be impossible to remain tidy while in fairy company.

He was still not quite wise enough to resign himself to the fact that this was probably his own fault. Instead, he reached down to pick up his briefcase once more, and turned to leave the basement.

-x-

Really, she'd expected Foaly to stop replying to her sooner. It was just like the centaur to pout, after all. So when he stopped responding to Holly's running commentary as she hovered outside Park Myung-Ki's window, the elf didn't worry.

On the other hand, she was slightly concerned over the fact that nothing had exploded yet. It was an alarming thought to have. Since when had her life taken such a drastic turn? Oh yeah, since _he_ showed up. And _he_ had always been perfectly fine with leaving a path of wanton destruction in his wake, so she couldn't understand why _he_ had to choose today to change his ways.

In other words, she was still fuming.

Park was still packing his fencing gear, and showed no signs of leaving the room anytime soon. Holly made a decision. With Foaly off-line and the comms disconnected, she had no way of telling Artemis to stay put; clearly, she needed to reach the basement before he disentangled himself from the wiring. And then she'd set off the EMP, whether he wanted to or not.

-x-

The lobby of the apartment was fairly mundane, as far as apartment lobbies went. Two faded couches and a decorative side-table that had suffered more scratches than a pixie in combat were the extent of the furnishings. It was the sort of lobby that discouraged loitering, designed for residents to enter through the front door and walk straight to the lift - or stairwell, if so preferred.

Artemis did not prefer the stairwell, but the lift had been designed to go no lower than the main floor. He'd taken the stairs to the basement with all the dignity that one can muster while bickering childishly over communication lines. Now, having investigated the electrical grid and found his clues, Artemis emerged into the lobby once more.

He made a beeline for the lift doors. The Park apartment was located on the top floor of the building and Artemis had no intention of taking more steps if a lift was readily available. Sure, he had to wait a minute as the number over the doors ticked down, but he spent the time mentally preparing for the conversation he would have with the Changeling in question. When the lift arrived, he stepped inside, pressed the button for the top floor, and brushed an invisible crumb from his rumbled shirt's sleeve.

The doors slid closed behind him.

Half a minute passed. The lobby remained silent, ignored, and completely mundane. That is, until the front doors of the building opened seemingly on their own. Only a slight shimmer of the air was visible to the naked eye, of which there were none. The shimmer was not inclined to wait around for someone to arrive and notice it, either, but headed straight for the steps that led down to the basement.

The number over the elevator turned to fifty.

-x-

Locks did not act as an obstacle to Artemis, who had developed lockpicking skills under the training of a kleptomaniac dwarf and had the amorality to use them. It took barely a minute to shut off the electronic lock and then fiddle with the keyhole before the door slipped open. Artemis rolled back his shoulders, replaced his picks in his pocket, and stepped inside.

Waiting for him crosslegged on the floor, with his arms folded and a fencing foil on each side, was Park Myung-Ki.

"You could have knocked, you know."

Knocking had honestly not occurred to Artemis. It didn't help that past experience had taught him that if there were an easy way to accomplish a task and a hard way, it was always the more expedient course of action to try the hard way first. After all, the easy way was practically guaranteed to fail - considering it as an option at all generally just led to sloppy planning. There was once a time when he had sworn by Occam's razor, but those days had long since passed.

Still, Artemis recovered quickly. "Hello," he said mildly, eyes skimming the room in search of Holly's shimmer. "I'd like to talk with you about -"

"Sorry to interrupt what I'm sure is a carefully constructed cover story prepared for exactly this contingency, but you're here about the alien technology, aren't you?"

Artemis coughed. "Pardon?"

"There's been an odd shimmer outside my window for the past twenty minutes. Either it was an oddly localized humanoid-shaped heat wave, or a technologically advanced cloaking device. Only someone from the alien civilization would have that technology on hand. As no contact was initiated with me then, I made an educated guess that I would soon have a visitor. It seems I was right."

"Alien civilization?" Artemis repeated, a little incredulously. He reached to straighten a non-existent tie. "Well, it just so happens that I've been sent by this alien civilization to talk with you about the technology you stole."

Myung-Ki gave the gangly, dishevelled young man a skeptical once-over. "You?"

"I admit, it's not a turn of events I would have anticipated, either." Artemis was starting to realize what he sounded like to the rest of the world (and, by extension, why he had such problems making friends amongst his peers). At least encountering these Changelings was proving to be an eye-opening experience.

"I'll save you the hassle of talking in circles in an attempt to find out what I know," Myung-Ki said. "I have no intention of revealing information regarding your alien civilization. I want a spot on the Olympic team and I want the technology to ensure it happens."

Artemis glanced down at the fencing foils. "You rigged the equipment. And if someone catches you?"

"I am clever enough to cover my tracks - no one will catch me."

"Except, apparently, for me."

Myung-Ki narrowed his eyes before he rose to his feet, a foil in each hand. "I'll make a deal with you. I won't tell anyone about your civilization so long as you don't reveal my advantage. We both win."

"I don't take deals where I have the most to lose," Artemis retorted. "Hand over the technology, and we'll leave you alone."

He really should have phrased it better than that. In his defense, he really had expected Holly to intervene before now.

Myung-Ki appeared to consider the offer, looking down to study the foils he held. He took a step to the side, twirling one of the foils lightly. "You want the technology?" he asked, shifting his hold on the foil so its handle was extended to Artemis. "Here, catch."

The foil flew in a slow, perfect arc, rotating once in midair. Artemis cringed, raising both hands in self-defense. He did not entirely know what he hoped to accomplish by this, as there was a near zero probability of his reflexes and hand-eye coordination cooperating with each other for long enough to actually enable him to catch the projectile.

A moment later, Artemis stared dumbfounded at the foil that had somehow appeared in his hand. "I caught it," he said, sounding almost proud at the thought.

"Yeah," said Myung-Ki, thoroughly unimpressed as he lifted his own foil. "En garde!"

"_What?"_

-x-

Foaly was feeling much better by the time he returned to his desk, a piping hot cup of sim-coffee clutched tight in his hand. He'd gone all the way down to the basement level break room to fetch it - the extra distance gave him time to regain his composure, and the coffee down there was the best in the building. He took an appreciative sip, burned his tongue, and settled down in his custom-made swivel chair.

The comms were just where he'd left them. Foaly set his coffee to the side before lifting the devices to secure them back over his head. "All right," he said cheerfully, "Sorted out your differences yet?"

Silence greeted him.

A wave of cold apprehension washed over the centaur. "Hello? Holly? Artemis? Come in?"

Nothing but the sound of his own beating heart.

Hands trembling, Foaly removed the comms again and stared down at them, wondering if the feedback loop had somehow shorted them both out, leaving Holly and Artemis without means of communication. What he saw was much worse - somehow, when he'd set the comms down, he'd neglected to actually turn them back on. Which meant that not only were Holly and Artemis without communications, but it was all his fault.

"D'arvit!"

Foaly flicked the power button on each comm and secured them both over his head again. "Holly? Artemis?" he asked with forced cheer.

From Holly's line came the sound of sudden swearing. "Oh sure, _now_ you decide to turn the line back on," she growled. "Where's Artemis? He didn't stay in the basement."

"Let me check," Foaly told her meekly. "Artemis? You there?"

"Frond's sake," Holly cut in, "Just put us on the same line again, already."

In no position to argue, Foaly did as he was told.

"Artemis, you had better not have gone up to Park's apartment," Holly began as soon as the line was connected. She received no answer.

"Maybe he's ignoring you," offered Foaly.

Holly ignored him.

"Or he took off his comm?" the centaur continued. He pulled up the data on his computer. "The data says the device is still active. He's up on the fiftieth - oh. Oh, no. That's not good."

Holly, already halfway up the stairs from the basement, didn't bother asking for clarification.

-x-

Artemis ducked beneath the striking foil and felt the comm device fall out of his ear. He could have attempted to retrieve it but defending himself from a world-class fencer was taking up all his limited coordination skills for the moment. Even limited was a stretch, as Artemis was merely employing a method known to most as "duck and cover." He was just happy Butler wasn't around to see him.

On the other hand, it would have been nice if Butler were there to step in.

Myung-Ki, by contrast, seemed to be having the time of his life. He pivoted on one heel, swinging his foil in a flourish as his heel crunched down hard on Artemis's comm. Artemis winced, but then there was no more time to think as his opponent feinted forwards.

Perhaps it was Artemis's complete and utter lack of hand-eye coordination that kept the match going for as long as it did. After all, Myung-Ki was used to facing opponents of the highest calibre. If fencing was a match of wits, it did help to be able to predict the actions of one's opponent. Artemis, having never held a fencing foil before in his life, didn't seem to have gotten that memo. His movements were increasingly erratic and desperate, countering parries by lashing out blindly with the foil and reacting to lunges by scurrying backwards. When recounting the events of the day in his journal, this particular sequence of events would most definitely be glossed over.

So, as disappointing as this match was to Myung-Ki, he was enjoying the ability to toy with Artemis. As far as the Olympic contender was concerned, it all balanced out in the end.

They'd circled around the room twice already due to Artemis's attempts to avoid the foil. Artemis was flagging, and had begun to formulate a plan of survival - bolt through the door at the soonest opportunity. Objectively, he knew this was not in keeping with the goals of his mission, as it would leave technology in the hands - literally - of Park Myung-Ki. On the other hand, this "fight" half of the "fight-or-flight" instinct really wasn't working out so well for him.

Unfortunately, Myung-Ki seemed to have caught on to his - well, he could hardly call it a plan. "No running!" he shouted, darting forward once more with the foil. "That's cheating!"

If he had the breath to respond, Artemis may have pointed out that Myung-Ki was the one who had insisted upon using rigged foils in the first place. Instead, he just slipped backwards once more, half a step closer to the door.

-x-

Standing shielded in the doorway, Holly Short did not have a clear shot.

It was a moment of mixed emotion. Part of her was vaguely impressed that Mud Boy had managed to get himself into a fight in the five minutes since they'd lost contact, and wondered if she'd been a bad influence on him. She was also a little impressed that he hadn't yet managed to trip over his own feet and impale himself upon his own sword.

This was drastically outweighed by the fact that, despite their continual protests to the contrary, apparently humans had not yet entirely abandoned the whole concept of settling disagreements by trying to kill each other with pointy sticks. Also the fact that she still did not have a clear shot.

The elf tapped her fingers twice against her blaster in irritation, and had an epiphany.

-x-

Somebody knocked four times on the doorframe. Myung-Ki paused mid-lunge, his gaze darting to the empty doorway.

Artemis didn't bother pausing. He heard four taps, interpreted this as a warning to duck, and - surprisingly - did.

-x-

Holly wasn't completely sure whether Artemis had understood her warning and dropped to the ground, or if his feet had finally gotten tangled and sent him sprawling across the floor. Either way she had her clear shot, and took it without a second thought.

-x-

Once Myung-Ki was down, it was easy enough for Holly to retrieve the foils - and Artemis - from the floor.

"Thanks," he said shortly, more due to an inability to catch his breath than anything else.

Holly shrugged and pocketed her blaster. "It was you who ducked."

In unison, they turned to the renowned fencer and the rigged foils to begin the monumental task of cleaning up the mess.

-x-

The ride back to Haven was quiet as neither Artemis nor Holly were ready to have a conversation, even if they had somehow entered a reluctant truce.

At one point, Holly holed herself up in the furthest corner of the shuttle from Artemis in order to make a call. Ceasefire or not, she was not about to pass up the opportunity to make his life just a little bit more difficult.

Juliet answered on the first ring. "Hey, Holly! How's life in the underground?"

"You wouldn't _believe_ what almost killed Artemis today!"

"Oh?" Juliet shifted in her seat, leaning forwards with a grin. "Do tell."

-x-

The next day, Artemis arrived early to the LEPFoul office. As much as they had first protested the location of their department, the thrumming of the boilers slipping into gear for the morning was almost soothing. At his elbow rested a mug of decaf Earl Grey tea, and he sipped it slowly as he ran through the projections his systems had compiled overnight. He always was most productive before noon.

"We need to talk, Mud Boy."

And then the moment was gone. He did not turn around to greet Holly, his voice low.

"If this is about the incident in Singapore, I had been operating under the impression that we had a mutual agreement to leave that in the past?" All the same, Artemis closed down his screen and stretched. He hadn't quite managed to remove all the debris from the surface before Holly hopped up to sit on it - in the future, he really would have to ensure that all interns knew to leave his work area untouched.

"Yes and no. Last night, I called Juliet. Thought she'd find the fencing story funny, but while we were talking, she finally told me the real reason you've been coming to Haven alone these last few weeks."

Artemis barely stifled a groan. "I suppose you're going to insist on talking about it, then."

"Yes, Arty, you suppose right. This explains a lot. You're worried for Butler's health, disappointed that it took you so long to determine that he was unwell, and angry that he didn't tell you about it sooner. That's how I'd feel. And, making matters worse, it's frustrating to be unable to pretend it doesn't bother you." Holly folded her arms across her chest, her gaze level. Surprisingly enough, it was Artemis who blinked first. His usual reaction to such psychoanalysis involved a combination of sarcasm, deflection, and application of his own studies on the topic. Coming from Holly, however, the assessment simultaneously cut deeper and was easier to stomach. He found he had no defense.

"Perceptive," admitted the human after a moment's pause.

The elf flashed a grin. "Artemis Fowl, you forget that I've been trained to read people. More than that, _I know you._ It turns out it's impossible to fix something that's been broken without getting a fairly good idea how it works."

"I resent that."

"You shouldn't. Look - I'm not your parents, your bodyguard, or your therapist. I'm your friend. I'm worried about Butler too, but there's nothing we can do about that other than to keep him from worrying about you. So, here's something that always cheers me up." Her hand drifted to the weapons belt at her waist, a twist of her wrist freeing Artemis's LEP-issued Neutrino from where she kept it. The Neutrino was useless to her, of course, being coded to the human's DNA, but she had reluctantly agreed to carry it close at hand all the same. Now, she set the weapon down on the desk between them. "Good old-fashioned violence."

"_Pardon_?"

She really did try not to laugh at the expression on his face. "Don't look at me like that, Mud Boy. I booked us two lanes at the shooting range. You've been issued a weapon, but that doesn't mean you could hit the broad side of a troll if your life depended on it. It'll set Butler's mind at ease to know you're working on your aim, and I'll probably sleep a bit better, too, knowing you're not going to accidentally shoot me in the back." She paused for emphasis. "Besides, we've already established that fighting with pointy sticks isn't exactly your strong point."

There was a lot Artemis could have said in response to that, and so he settled for sarcasm. "I wasn't aware it was possible to discern which side of a troll is supposed to be the broad one." He nonetheless resigned himself to the bout of target practice. He supposed, all things considered, it would be a good experience for him. Holly beamed.

"You've met enough of them, you tell me."

"You've - you've met trolls!" piped a bleary-eyed Caltrop from the doorway. He'd clearly just arrived for the morning. One hand clutched a mug of warm sim-coffee; the other reached to adjust his gill tank, bubbles rising from it in alarm.

"So many trolls," said Holly with a smirk. "It's why he never leaves home without a troll contingency plan."

"You're joking, right?" The poor sprite didn't quite seem to know if he should be fascinated or terrified. His gills fluttered in uncertainty.

"Really, Chlorella," said Artemis. "You should know by now that I never joke about anything as serious as trolls. Come to think of it - if a troll were to storm this boiler room, how would you respond?"

"What?"

"Think about it. I know what I'd do, and I expect a proper answer from you, as well. My laser pointer may help you with that but it seems to have gone missing." Artemis arched an eyebrow. "Have it figured out by the time Holly and I return from the shooting range."

"Wait!" Caltrop looked as though he might faint. "They actually trusted you with a gun!?"

-x-

Next Time:

_EPISODE 1.06: DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE - Foul Team has to catch up with Demia and Becquerel when a mysterious source leads the two Changelings underground in a bid to force the LEP's hand._

-x-

_**Author's Notes: **_

This is the obligatory mid-season crack episode. Also the episode where everybody rediscovers their inner five year-old. Can you tell?

Also, I know we tend to promise fic and then not deliver, but Winged and I are in unanimous agreement: the "Mulch teaches Artemis how to _properly_ pick locks" one-shot WILL be forthcoming, and soon.

Thank you, as always, for reading! -Freud

Speaking of promising fic, I'm working on my version of Maps again. Apologies for letting Freud promise it would be up soon when obviously it's taken longer. Hopefully, if things work out, I'll get it up before the next episode of FT. We'll see.

In other news, for anyone who's interested, Freud and I are both participating in the 3 Sentence Ficathon (link through our profile). All sorts of fandoms are showing up there, so we encourage you to join in - it's super easy and a ton of fun!

Thanks again for the R&R. You all are amazing! - Winged


	7. 106: Down The Rabbit Hole (1)

EPISODE 1.06: DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE (1)

_Foul Team has to catch up with Demia and Bec when the two Changelings discover an abandoned shuttleport. The first of the two-part season finale.  
_

-x-

"Yeah? Well, I've heard that department is an absolute nightmare."

The dwarf sighed heavily, waving her LEP-issue employee tablet in the air. "Look, I just got started here this morning. Found out that I've been assigned to LEPfoul. I just need to know where I'm going, please."

The secretary nodded earnestly."I'm just saying, LEPfoul's got trouble written all over it. No, literally. Kelp signed the form authorizing the department in the first place - nobody's got the faintest idea why he did it, either."

"Uh-huh."

"And don't get me started on their intern problem! Department's been around for months now, but they haven't been able to keep any interns for more than a couple days -"

"Look, I -"

"Well, thaaaaat's not quite true, I guess. They do have one they've managed to keep on board, but runour has it that's because he'd be sent right to prison if he quit! Well, and that centaur but I'm still not convinced they aren't just on babysitting duty when it comes to her. Between them all, why, I don't know if they've got a single person who doesn't have a criminal record! I tell you - wait, what was your name again?"

"Dodo," said the entirely unimpressed dwarf.

"Right, Dodo! I tell you, Dodo, I pity any poor sap who gets assigned to that mess of a department. I'd rather be put in the goblin division!"

"I see." By now, Dodo could tell that the secretary was not going to be much help. Time to improvise. "You're right, of course! You know, _I've _heard that their offices are a mess, too!"

"Oh, definitely! They're stuck all the way in the boiler room in the basement. I don't even know - wait, where are you going?"

-x-

With the exception of her multiple campaigns to be fired, Dodo Feldspar had never been late to work - especially on her first day to a new job. She prided herself in making a strong first impression for her new employers.

This time, apparently, she'd already managed this somehow. Two days ago, Dodo had received a call from the hiring department of the LEP to ask whether she'd ever considered a career with the police. As far as she knew, Dodo had never done anything to warrant such attention but was flattered all the same.

_"I would love to accept,"_ she'd told the representative on the other end of the line, _"But I have a job. And I don't ever quit."_

_"Too bad you have that other job," _was the rep's response, accompanied by a downcast whinny.

_"Too bad, indeed," _she'd agreed, and meant it. And the next day, Dodo had been called into the main office at the shuttleport where her boss told her that, regrettably, he would have to let her go. He did not look pleased. Dodo was ecstatic.

But just because she had made some sort of impression on an anonymous employee of the LEP didn't mean she would allow herself to be late on her first day. Even with the delay caused by the gossiping receptionist, Dodo managed to find her way to the boiler room a good quarter of an hour before her scheduled shift began.

The door was locked.

The dwarf stared up at the sign on the door, where the bold-typed **BOILER ROOM** had been crossed out by a felt pen and replaced with a neatly printed **LEPfoul**. This, too, had been crossed out, with _The Foul Team_ scrawled beneath. Dodo was beginning to develop an uncomfortable sense of foreboding. But she was nothing if not resilient, so the dwarf pushed the feeling to the back of her mind and wiggled the door handle once more. It didn't give.

That was when a water sprite turned the corner. "Oh!" he squeaked, and scurried forward a few steps before the large plastic bin in his arms slipped from his grip to spill its contents across the floor.

Dodo sighed and moved forward to help him clean up the mess. The bin had been filled with a collection of office supplies, snack foods, and - "Birdseed?"

"Trust me, we need it," the water sprite sighed. He awkwardly adjusted his water-tubes and squinted up at her. "Say, I haven't seen you around before. New?"

"First day," Dodo affirmed, scooping the last set of styluses into the bin before gesturing behind her. "Is there someone coming to open that door?"

The water sprite visibly flinched. "You've been assigned to Foul Team?"

-x-

It turned out that Dodo wasn't the only new intern. Thirteen minutes after she'd been let into the room by the water sprite, two pixies had stumbled in behind them - _four minutes late,_ Dodo noted. Their names were Shyrill and Ambryn, they were dressed head to foot in fluorescent pink, and they giggled every time the water sprite - who introduced himself proudly as "Caltrop, senior intern" - addressed them. _Incredibly unprofessional._

Dodo didn't say anything, of course. But she watched, and took note of the little things. Like the closet door with a hole cut out where a lock should be. Or the empty desks that apparently belonged to the head of the department and her official consultant - both of whom were nowhere to be seen. Not to mention the centaur with the bright green hair that showed up an hour and a half late, rolled her eyes at the sight of the three new interns, and bolted from the room again.

Roughly half through the second hour of orientation, the computer at the consultant's desk chimed loudly. Caltrop ignored it.

"... and there's only one computer terminal for the interns, so we have to share. Only Sass will probably take more than her alotted time..."

The computer chimed twice more in quick succession. Dodo waited for Caltrop to pause his speech but it was as though the water sprite hadn't even heard the alert. She raised her hand.

"... so someone will have to come up with a new schedule now that there are three more of us and - uh - yes -?"

"Shouldn't someone check the computer?"

Caltrop winced. "That's n-not a good idea. W-we don't ever t-touch, uh, that desk. Or anything on it. Um, is that clear?"

Perfectly, the interns said. The computer chimed again and all three made a show of ignoring it. And when Caltrop turned his back to show them where the coffee supplies were kept, Dodo unobtrusively sat down in the consultant's chair and poked the computer to disengage the screen saver.

It took several minutes before Caltrop noticed. "W-what are you d-doing?" he cried, aghast.

Dodo was busy scanning the results displayed on the computer screen. "The computer was still giving alert signals. What if it's something important?"

"Something i-important?" Caltrop repeated, wringing his hands. "We're the, uh, interns. We don't d-do the important stuff."

"How did you log in anyway?" asked Shyrill, who thought the insubordination much more fascinating than orientation.

Ambryn bobbed eagerly. "Are you a hacker?"

Dodo frowned. "The access codes were in the information packet I picked up from the front desk."

Shyrill and Ambryn were impressed. Caltrop was just shocked. "The front desk has information packets?"

-x-

In the three months since confiscating Myung-Ki's rigged fencing equipment, Artemis had fallen into a rather unusual commute. Weekdays were spent belowground, working with LEPfoul and their ever-revolving roster of interns. The patterns of circuitry within the fencing foils had led to a particular manufacturer of the pilfered technology, which had led to another security breach, which had led to an entire series of escapades spanning most of Asia. After that had been tied up, Artemis's systems pinged with the recognition of another human anomaly, sending them off on another adventure before anybody had the chance to catch their breath. It was surprisingly satisfying work, and he'd almost stopped complaining about spending the nights on Holly's couch.

Almost.

In return, Holly had almost stopped complaining about him not yet having his own apartment.

Almost.

On weekends, he made the commute back to the surface to spend time with his family and pursue projects of his own. After Singapore, he had even reluctantly hired a fencing tutor for private lessons (which were going about as well as could be expected). This week, with his father out of the country on business and his mother playing host to a charity gala in Milan, Artemis had left for home on Thursday night, meaning that Friday morning could be spent with the twins.

At six years old, Myles Fowl was proving every bit as resourceful as his older brother, tugging Artemis by the arm to show off his latest invention.

"I noticed last week that nothing electronic ever works quite right where the fairy roses are, and I wasn't quite sure why so I wanted to find out," the boy explained, having to take two steps for each one of Artemis's. Artemis, to his credit, just smiled. He, of course, knew exactly what was causing the problem in that particular segment of the grounds - not that he could tell his brothers anything about it. Even if he could have explained about magical residue, Myles was so engaged in this project of his that Artemis saw no harm in encouraging him.

"That's an interesting observation. What did you decide to do?"

"Well, I wanted to find out why, so I built this!" Myles stopped abruptly, reaching into his pocket and removing a small, metallic cube. "It's going to measure the atmospheric electrical currents to see if that's what's causing the problem, and if it is, show me where the source of the interference is. I went through the schematics for the grounds, and I don't believe there could be anything buried there, but there might. Right?" He bounced, once, on the tips of his toes.

"I suppose there could be. We'll find out soon enough."

"I've had this built for days now," Myles confessed, turning on his heel to face the roses. "Wanted to wait until you were here to see if it works."

"I'm sure it will, and if it does not, I'm positive we'll be able to fix it," his older brother reassured him, already calculating the logistics of burying a cable line under that particular segment of ground without disturbing the soil. "Exactly how did you manage to assemble the casing for the device, Myles? I thought mother did not want you playing with the arc welder any more."

"Oh, no, she doesn't, so I didn't. I thought you knew? Beckett gave it to me and said that you said that I could use that pen of yours to solder the edges of the metal together." He rummaged around in his pocket once more, withdrawing the pilfered laser pointer and returning it to Artemis. As he did, Myles gave such an angelic smile that Artemis knew he actually believed nothing of the sort.

"I see. After we're done here, I think I'll need to have a talk with both of you about boundaries. Again." He paused to tuck the laser pointer safely in his own pocket, making a mental note to ensure Beckett and Mulch never crossed paths. He was fairly certain Beckett would, if pushed, happily follow in the Fowl footsteps and pursue quite the illustrious criminal career.

Artemis's work phone, kept on-hand at all times in case of emergencies, vibrated once. He frowned, reaching for it and answering the call before it could ring again.

"Holly?"

"Actually, no. I'm calling from the LEPfoul offices? I'm a new intern, this is my first day."

"I see." He did not bother extending a greeting, assuming that - like all their other new recruits - she would be gone by lunchtime. "What's the problem, then?"

"Well, I'm sitting at your computer, and it's making this odd pinging sort of sound? I think there's some sort of situation, but I'm not entirely certain what it -"

"You're sitting at _my _computer? I see. Put Chlorella on the line."

"I can't do that, I'm afraid. He ran away when he saw I was calling you, but this looks important. Something about a Becquerel Jones? It's -"

"Forgive me for asking," interrupted Artemis, who had just experienced a particularly chilling epiphany, "But you sound like a security guard who broke my nose several months ago."

The ice in his voice made Dodo give a little squeak. And here she had thought that her morning couldn't possibly get worse. "Oh no, it's you? I was - well, I was trying to get fired at the time?"

"Congratulations, you've succeeded. Forward the information on to this number, and then I want you out of my department. Understood?"

Dodo gulped. "Yes, I do."

They both hung up without another word. After a moment, Artemis reluctantly turned to his younger brother. "I'm sorry, Myles, but I need to go make another phone call."

-x-

Holly's phone rang. This was a particular annoyance now, of all times, as she'd finally managed to secure a morning to sleep in. Reluctantly, she ventured a hand out from beneath the covers of her bed to touch the phone on the bedside table before it could ring a second time.

"This had better be important, Fowl," she grumbled.

"Are you still asleep? For shame, Holly," he chided. The elf sat up in bed.

"I repeat: this had better be important."

-x-

The interns were still crowded around Artemis's computer an hour later, doing their best to figure out how to forward the information to the boss. Dodo hadn't yet budged from the chair, leaving the others to awkwardly reach around her as they attempted to peck at the manual keyboard.

"It's so old school," muttered Ambryn in fascination, pulling her hand away before Dodo could swat at her again.

"So you've said," the dwarf replied sourly. She still hadn't recovered from the phone call. "Alright, so we've saved it as a document. How do we attach it to the email?"

The pixies shrugged.

"Caltrop?"

He sighed heavily. "Don't ask me. Sass is the one who does all that stuff. Maybe if you press that... button... there?"

Dodo pressed the button and nothing happened.

A new voice sounded behind them. "It's okay, guys. Take your time. Not like that data could be important or something."

The interns all spun around. Standing behind them, her arms crossed and her toe impatiently tapping the floor, was Holly. She surveyed them all for an instant, sighed, and said, "It's the third button from the end."

Dodo spun back around and located the button in an instant. With two clicks, she attached the email and sent it off. Then, slowly, she turned back to face her boss.

Holly sighed heavily once more. "Listen up, team. This situation is important and I don't have the energy to deal with you today. I don't even know why you're here - I gave you all the day off."

Caltrop looked up hopefully. "You did?"

"Too late. You're here now, you work." Holly looked the group over again. "You two, go find someone at the front desk to give you a tour of Police Plaza. Feldspar, I believe you've already been told to leave the premises. Chlorella - where did Sass go?"

"I'll find her," Caltrop said quickly.

Holly gave a short, satisfied nod. "All right. Dismissed."

With varying degrees of enthusiasm, the interns fled from the room. The pixies made it through the door first, while Dodo and Caltrop both tried to leave the room at the same time. The ensuing pileup in the doorway took several elbowings, a scathing glare from Holly, and an infinitely awkward moment to sort out.

It was no surprise that Shyrill and Ambryn reached the elevator first, and almost equally as expected when they failed to hold the door for the two hapless interns behind them. It was only when Dodo heard the groan of the door start to close that she snapped out of her reverie, and nearly dashed the last ten feet to the -

"No!" A hand on her wrist, tugging her back hard.

"Hey, watch it!" Dodo twisted to try and free her hand, turning to find herself face-to-face with a pale-faced Caltrop. Above them, something screeched.

"She's here!" wailed the sprite. Dodo, ever the pragmatist, simply pressed her other palm to the water sprite's arm and ducked, dragging him with her to the ground. The screaming canary shot overhead, disappearing into the elevator just as the door slid shut.

As the lift departed, they could hear the screams of the other two interns echo through the metal.

"Poor souls. We'll never see them again," said Caltrop, sadly. Dodo pushed herself up off the ground.

"She won't - should we be calling somebody? They're - the canary isn't capable of killing somebody?"

"Lucia hasn't killed anybody - yet. I think, though, that those interns aren't going on that tour. They'll quit." He dragged himself to his feet more slowly than Dodo, despondent. "They always quit. Every last one."

"Every last one?"

"Except for Sass. I wish Sass would quit."

"But you haven't?"

"Only because my work here is the only thing keeping me from being sent to prison." Caltrop shook his head. "And even that wouldn't be so bad if Lucia didn't know where the cells are. She has it out for me, you see."

"Uh-huh." Dodo studied her new coworker for a moment, folding her arms across her chest. "I think, Mister Chlorella, that you just saved my life."

"I - wait, you think I did?"

"Oh, of course. Just because Lucia hasn't killed anybody yet doesn't mean she won't in the future. I might very well owe you my life. You're a hero!"

"Hey, yeah, that's right!" Caltrop straightened, adjusting his gill tank. "You know what - wait, what was your name again?"

"Dodo," said the dwarf, with remarkable patience. She'd already had to remind him four times.

"Dodo! Coffee on me today! I'm a hero!"

_Maybe,_ she thought over a mug of some of the best coffee she'd ever tasted, _I should stick this out, firing or not. They _can't_ actually be allowed to fire me on my first day. Clearly, Caltrop needs a friend._

-x-

**INBOX:**

Mr. Fowl Sir,

Here's the data you requested.  
We tried saving it as a report first!  
which kind of failed  
But we think we've managed to attach it now.

Sincerely,  
Caltrop

Attached: [7 FILES]

-x-

"Yes, Beckett, I understand that you wished to help with your brother's project, but you could have found a way to do this _that did not involve stealing._"

Myles had clamored up on Artemis's knee, which detracted from the severity of his lecture. When the phone buzzed on the table beside them, it was Myles who got hold of it first. "Is this the email you were expecting?"

Artemis plucked his phone from his brother's hands. "Quite possible. Excuse me a minute." He swiped his finger over the screen and navigated to the email.

Beckett had leaned over to read along. "What language is that?"

"Fairy," Artemis said with the heaviest sarcasm he could muster.

Myles hummed thoughtfully. "Do they know they attached seven copies of the same report?"

The phone buzzed again. It was another copy of the same email. An instant later, a third copy came in. Artemis sighed heavily and slid his phone back into his pocket. "Interns," he explained.

"Ah." Myles nodded wisely. "Interns."

"Definitely interns," agreed Beckett, who didn't exactly know what interns were but had heard more than enough stories about them to have an opinion on the matter.

-x-

It took Artemis four minutes to get the faultily-named attachments to open, thirty-four seconds to skim the information they contained, nearly eight minutes to convince the twins to entertain themselves while he sorted out business related to his work, and six minutes to meet with Butler in the hangar of the Fowl jet.

"We need to go. Facial recognition software installed in a security camera in Killarney sent an alert to my systems over an hour ago. We've found Becquerel Jones, and he's not alone."

"He's with Miss Carter?" surmised Butler.

"Naturally."

"Isn't Killarney only forty minutes away from a shuttleport?"

Artemis nodded. "Unfortunately. We need to intercept them - it'd take too long for Holly to make her way aboveground. I'm not certain yet what their objectives are. Holly's set the interns on attempting to decode the surveillance tapes we've pulled from Carter's home, but that could take some time. Even then, the proximity of their location can't be coincidental."

"No, it can't." Butler paused for a moment, furrowing his brow. When he resumed speaking, his voice was gentle. "If you suspect they're headed for a shuttleport in order to go belowground, I can't follow you. I won't risk leaving you in a position where you would be heading into danger alone. We don't know what their intentions are. I'll remain at the manor with the twins, and Juliet will accompany you in pursuit of Carter and Jones. If you need to follow them belowground, she'll be able to go along with you. Artemis, I told you I would inform you the moment I could no longer fulfill my duties and keep you safe. Here it is. That's my recommendation."

The words hit like a buzz baton to the nose, and for a moment Artemis simply blinked. Going into a situation aboveground without Butler by his side simply didn't feel right, but Butler had said -

Artemis took another look at his bodyguard's face, but could not bring himself to speak. He simply nodded in assent.

"I'm sorry, Artemis."

"Don't apologize," the young genius replied, somewhat testily. "This is not your fault." He swallowed hard, regaining control of his emotions once more. "Please, though, do me one favour."

"Yes?"

"Please tell Myles I'm sorry I could not spend the afternoon helping him fine-tune his invention."

"I will."

And nothing more needed to be said.

-x-

"It's no good. These systems - glub! - they're too old, they won't download data from the surface properly. There's some kinda interference, too. We establish a connection but every time those _things_ over there do anything loud, it d-drops." Caltrop gestured to the boilers with an especially disgusted crinkle of the nose. As if to make sure somebody empathized with him, the water sprite then cast a glance over to where Dodo was sitting on her knees, putting the finishing touches on the brand new lock she'd attached to their supply closet. "I could deal with the system up to this point because they've always got that centaur running all the surface connections, but - glub! - he's not in today. The scary elf's gone to try and track him down, but until then we're on our own and our p-programs just won't run properly!" He smacked the desk, despondent.

"Easy, now. It's not the keyboard's fault." Dodo stood, dusting off the knees of her trousers. "Stop hitting it like that."

"Oh. Sorry. It's just these boilers, if they weren't _here _then I could do my job!"

Luckily for them all, Sass chose that moment to finally make a reappearance. She'd assumed as it was past lunch time, the daily crop of interns had likely cleared out. Upon seeing Dodo she likely would have turned and fled the room once more, but something in Caltrop's voice piqued her attention.

"Oh, hey, Shrimp? You need something taken apart?" She cracked her knuckles. "Sounds exactly like my kinda thing. One time at a LEP summer barbeque -" Sass broke off there, examining the edge of her fingernail with a low whinny. "Maybe I should save that story for another time."

It was probably coincidence that the boilers chose that moment to emit a particularly loud whine. Probably.

"They sound afraid of you," Dodo remarked.

Sass grinned broadly. "They should be."

-x-

The entrance to the shuttleport was visible when the Land Rover pulled up, which was never a good sign. The sleek and modern structure was clearly out of place on such a wild terrain. Of extra concern was the fact that Artemis could not detect a single shimmer in the air around the port - were any fairies in the vicinity, they had no idea that the shields were down.

Artemis brought his phone to his ear. "Holly? I can see the port - literally. Send a message to security that their shields are down. And could you notify them that I'm on my way inside before they try and stop me?"

The hesitation on the other end was not encouraging. "It's Dodo, actually," said the intern. "E46 is one of the ports that's been shut down ever since the Techno Crash. Automatic shields were put in place but everything is run by systems. Something must have shorted out."

Artemis refrained from asking why she was still in the LEPfoul office. "Can Foaly fix it from belowground?"

"Foaly - that's the technician?" Dodo asked. "Holly's searching for him now. So far, he's nowhere to be found. Just our luck that it happened today."

Juliet had already exited the vehicle, checking the area for any signs of danger. Artemis waited until she pulled open the door before stepping out onto the hillside. "No luck involved. If the shields are down, it is because Jones and Carter have already made their way inside. I'll follow with Juliet, fix the systems, and keep the two Changelings out of trouble until you can send a team to the surface." He paused, then added dryly, "Or do you need someone with a higher authority to allow surface access?"

Dodo wisely chose not to argue.

-x-

Dodo had been right - the shuttleport was completely deserted when Artemis and Juliet made their way inside. As was standard LEP protocol with abandoned aboveground operations, a tiny swarm of nanobots rushed towards the open door, glimmering in the air as they settled against the tiled floor to clean up any dust before it could come to rest. They did their job well, erasing Artemis and Juliet's footprints completely before the two humans were even halfway across the open foyer. Behind them, the door swung shut with a pneumatic hiss.

"Handy," commented Juliet, attempting to move out of the swarm's path. The bots had other plans, settling on her shoes to clean off any traces of dirt.

Artemis, on the other hand, held still until the bots were finished with him. He glanced up to the nearest security camera. "Someone needs to tell Foaly these are less helpful when we're attempting to _track intruders."_

That was when his phone rang.

"Intruders, huh? Art, I'm kinda hurt," said the unwelcome voice on the other end of the line.

Artemis peered up into the security camera. To his left, Juliet had already slipped out of frame, heading - he surmised - to the security booth that would have given Becquerel Jones access to the feeds. Nothing to do now but keep him talking. "Hello, Jones."

"Oh, come on. Now I'm really hurt. You aimed your dwarf at me - we're on a first name basis now, whether you like it or not."

"You didn't know it was a dwarf last time. Someone's been doing their homework, I see."

"As if! There are not many things that are capable of that kind of explosion. The taste in my mouth when I woke up -"

"Oh, no, this again?" A young female voice piped up in the background.

"Hello, Demia," said Artemis evenly.

"Wait, so she merits a first name?"

"_She _didn't shoot me with a tranquilizer dart."

"Yeah, well, _you_ threw up in my van!"

_He's goading me,_ Artemis realized with a jolt. _These taunts aren't just childish, they're personal - he needs to keep me talking. _And then, just as certainly, _he's not in the security booth._

It wasn't difficult to deduce where the teens had gone instead. If Becquerel was attempting to delay Artemis, then they would have an alternate exit. And the only other exit from the shuttleport -

The lights all dimmed and flickered from a drain in the power supply. Artemis did not need to be an expert in shuttleport engineering to understand the cause - someone had diverted power from the main systems to charge a shuttle. There wasn't much time to lose.

There also wasn't any way to warn Juliet without alerting the teens that Artemis knew where they had gone. He glanced once more at the security cameras, then turned his attention back to the flickering lights. "Old wires," he commented casually. "I'm surprised there's any cell phone signal in here."

"Fascinating technology, isn't it?" Demia gushed. "It's almost more interesting than the magic!"

"Indeed." Artemis began to casually pace the room, subtly drawing near to the camera's blind spot. "I can't help but wonder what you are planning to do with it."

"Why would I do anything?" Demia asked, "I just want to learn about it. Like I said, it's absolutely fascinating!"

Artemis glanced up again, estimating angles. _Almost there. _"And yourself, Jones? Simple curiosity?"

Becquerel paused for a moment as Artemis finally stepped out of frame. "You know, now that we're here, _I'm having a hard time remembering._"

_Demia's mind wipe. They want answers. _Artemis didn't see any point in drawing out the charade any longer - he hung up the phone and ran.

-x-

"Hello, yes, hello!" called Foaly from the other side of the door. Holly waited to be let inside - nothing happened.

"Foaly? It's Holly. We've got a Changeling problem and I've been looking for you all day. Hurry up."

The door still did not open. "Changelings, eh?"

Holly froze. "Oh no. You don't say "eh." _Is this your artificial intelligence?" _

"Actually, can it be _my_ artificial intelligence if I _am_ the artificial intelligence?" asked the voice philosophically. "Dude, I just tripped myself out!"

Clearly, the experimental personality chip was still on the blink. To say that Holly was unimpressed would be a gross understatement. "You have thirty seconds to put Foaly on the line before I come in there and blast you a new interface."

"Oh, believe me, I know. Foaly put a tag on your file explaining that you'd totally threaten me with violence at some point. He also said not to worry cause you usually don't follow through with it. Anyways, I can't help you. Caballine imposed a strict no-tech rule on their weekend getaway. Left me at home taking care of the kids."

"You're babysitting? They trust you to - ?" Holly was horrified on a number of levels. Unfortunately, she had bigger problems to worry about. "You know what, never mind. Don't answer that. See what you can do about getting a message out to Foaly anyway. I'm heading back to the office."

"Will do, friend!" the AI assured her cheerfully. "Good luck with your Changelings and have a _wonderful_ day!"

_Oh, that's precious_, Holly thought as she jogged back down the front steps to the road. _Foaly invented artificial sarcasm - because we didn't have enough of the real kind._

-x-

After the Techno-Crash, the People had gone through and systematically stationed shuttles at every single one of their ports, active or not. With an entire civilization on the verge of discovery, it was well worth the time and money needed to ensure that every fairy - no matter where they were located on the surface of the planet - had a way home if they needed it.

Killarney's port was no different: a lone shuttle sat docked in the bay, held in place by clamps that glowed silver with the incoming surges of energy. At the other side of the room, Demia and Becquerel clustered around a control panel, arguing in hushed voices over the Gnomish symbols that flashed upon the screen.

The nanobots had so thoroughly cleaned Artemis's shoes by this point that they squeaked loudly against the tiled floor when he took another step forward. He froze as both Changelings looked up at the same time.

Demia was the first to recover. "Hello, Artemis! I'm glad you're here - talking face-to-face is so much nicer than over the phone. We don't have time to learn the fairy language. I wanted to learn their language, it's so pretty-looking with all the symbols, but Bec said we needed to get moving so I didn't. So, do you know which button means 'go'?" She smoothed down her skirt with both hands as she talked, her eyes bright with excitement.

Becquerel didn't bother with conversation, vaulting over the control booth to hit the floor with both feet. He kept the momentum, racing towards the shuttle. Artemis, closer to the docking bay and already out of breath, only barely beat him to it.

"Oh, look! I think found the 'go' button!" Demia grinned broadly as she hit the button.

Several things happened at once.

Lily Frond's automated voice sounded throughout the bay, speaking in rapid Gnomish. "Welcome to the Refugee Automated Flight System! The RAFS shuttles are designed for easy use. If this is not an emergency, please leave the docking area. If this is an emergency, please select the command button once more to confirm."

"What's it saying?" Bec called across to Demia, then looked up to Artemis, who had positioned himself in the doorway of the shuttle in an attempt to block the entrance. "You know what it's saying."

Artemis and Demia both shrugged.

While the exchange was taking place, the docking clamps shifted. No longer a cool silver, they now pulsated an angry red in time with the siren that now blared throughout the shuttleport.

"The button's glowing again. I should probably hit it one more time?" shouted Demia over the alarms.

"No!" replied Artemis.

"Do it!" said Becquerel at the same time.

Demia shrugged and hit the button again.

-x-

Alone in the security booth on the other side of the facility, Juliet lifted her head and swore colourfully before bolting down the hall. Even with the distance between her and the shuttle bay, she nearly made it to the doors before they sealed shut in preparation for launch.

Nearly.

-x-

"Thank you for choosing the RAFS! You now have one minute to board the shuttle before launch. As this system is designed to be easy to use for any fairy at any time, there's no need for previous flight experience - don't worry about steering the shuttle, and it will guide itself safely home! Alternately, if you wish to choose your own destination, simply place your hands upon the steering controls to engage manual mode. Happy flying, and thank you again for choosing RAFS!" Lily Frond's voice paused for a moment, perhaps to allow the listener to imagine her blinding smile. When she resumed talking, it was to initiate a countdown. "Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight..."

No matter the language, it is generally fairly easy to tell when a countdown has begun. Demia's eyes widened as she stepped out from behind the control booth. "What did I do?"

"You initiated the self-destruct. The system is programmed to reject a human touch," said Artemis immediately, still doing his best to block the doorway into the shuttle. "We need to leave this place!"

Behind him, the docking clamps released with a hiss of steam as the shuttle engine roared to life. A pathway on the floor lit up, as well, small dots of light leading an obvious invitation into the shuttle itself. Becquerel raised one eyebrow. "I see."

"Well, it was worth a try," replied Artemis.

"Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight..."

Demia was skipping along the lighted trail as though it was a hopscotch, each rainboot landing with a squeak to cover the dots of light as she went. "How long is the countdown?"

Artemis did not answer. If neither of the Changelings knew how how much time was left, there was a chance he could delay them long enough for the shuttle to leave without anyone on board.

The countdown was nearing its end. As Lily Frond reached ten, the lights flashed with increasing urgency. Demia gave a squeak of surprise as her rainboot landed upon a light that was no longer there.

"Hurry up," Bec told her, "It's reaching the end of the countdown."

"Yeah, I noticed!" she exclaimed, and dashed the remaining distance. Artemis expected her to stop behind Bec, and prepared to fend them off for the last few critical seconds.

She did not stop.

Instead, Demia leapt up onto Bec and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her momentum, coupled with Bec's surprise, pushed him forward into Artemis who was unable to withstand the combined weight. All three fell in a heap on the shuttle's floor.

"Two, one!" finished Lily Frond triumphantly, and the shuttle doors slid shut.

Bec groaned and attempted to crawl out from under Demia, managing to knee Artemis in the stomach as he did so. Artemis groaned, the breath knocked out of him.

"What was that for?" Bec snapped at a grinning Demia, who had popped back onto her feet to smooth out her skirt once more.

"Well," she said brightly, surveying the two other Changelings, "neither of you two looked like you were going to move, and the voice sounded urgent. So, I took initiative!"

"Is _that _what you call it?" grumbled Becquerel. Still laying winded on the floor, Artemis made a sound that was probably some form of agreement with Becquerel's sentiment.

This would go on record as the first, last, and only time that the two of them ever agreed upon anything.

-x-

While protocol dictated that staff avoid the commander's office unless directly invited to step within, Commander Kelp prided himself on a more lax approach to this side of the LEP handbook. In all honesty, he probably had not read those chapters. Instead, he had taken several summer seminars on corporate culture which all stressed the same ideas: accessibility and easy communication. Kelp had embraced the philosophy with open arms and an open door.

So when Holly Short stepped into his office, he did not think much of it. "Short. How's everything down in LEPfoul?"

Holly coughed awkwardly. "Well. Um."

Kelp felt the first trickle of concern. "What did he do?" There was no need to clarify who he referred to.

Holly took a deep breath. "Strictly speaking, I don't think this one was his fault."

"And what exactly _is_ 'this one?'"

Three interns pushed through the doorway to crowd anxiously behind Holly. That was the moment Kelp began to second-guess his open door policy. "Right." He stood up, both hands flat against his desk. "I want everybody out of here by the time I count to three. Except you -" he pointed to a sodden-looking sprite with a magnificent set of gill tanks. "I can intimidate the full truth out of you. Everybody else, out!"

-x-

After promising Artemis that neither of them were stupid enough to touch any of the automatic flight controls, Demia and Becquerel went about the business of barricading him inside the shuttle's lavatory. This was actually fine by Artemis, who only gave a modicrum of resistance to keep up the impression otherwise. After all, the flight path of the automated shuttle was predictable enough, and he trusted the rest of LEPfoul to ensure that there would be a team waiting to pick up the Changelings the moment the stolen shuttle docked. Nothing to do now but wait.

Judging by the way the shuttle thrummed gently, no grinding of gears or sudden movements, Becquerel and Demia must have decided to trust the autopilot. Artemis caught himself nearly smiling at the look of contempt Holly would surely have on her face if she knew about an entire shuttle network designed to fly itself. The fact that Lily Frond was the spokesperson for this interface would have been an extra thorn in Holly's side, and Artemis made a mental note to be elsewhere when the elf discovered that particular detail.

An hour and a half after the shuttle began its descent, there was a gentle knock on the door. "Artemis? I know it's probably a seriously bad time to be doing this, but can we talk? Because Bec's told me lots of stuff and he really is a sweetheart, but I feel like he's only telling me what he thinks I need to know. You're smart, so I think we should cooperate and you should tell me what's really going on."

He lifted his head. "Fair enough. I can't see how deception would help either of our causes at this point. Please, tell me what you want to know. I'm all ears."

"Bec says I used to know that the fairies are real, but they made me forget. And he says you helped them."

Artemis gave a small nod, even though she couldn't see him. "I see. If memory is identity, you're wondering if you are who you believe. If you don't know what you've done, you can't possibly know who you are." He shifted a little, touching his forehead with his fingertips. "Jones may have made me out to be your enemy, but I do understand that particular sentiment."

"But you were involved in taking magic away from me. If you know what that feels like, then why would you -" The girl broke off, swallowing hard. "I just wanna know the truth, Artemis."

"Demia, what you have to understand about the People is that their entire way of life depends on their ability to remain hidden. Everything they have and everything they are would fall apart if they were exposed. That's why they altered your memories. It's a harmless enough procedure, as the human mind fills in the blanks itself. You were never in any danger."

The door swung open with a click. Demia, her face blotchy and her lips pursed, looked down at Artemis for a moment to study his face closely. "Tell me the truth, please. Did I do anything to them? The fairies, I mean. Did I do anything to hurt them? I'm clever enough to have hurt them if I'd wanted to, but - well, did I?" Her hands twisted together, and Artemis looked down.

"No. You didn't."

"Oh." She plopped down in the doorway, her skirt billowing about her like a parachute. "Oh! You did, though, didn't you? You did something, and so they took my memories before I even had the chance. But then why are you here, now, helping them?" The girl paused for breath, tracing her fingertips along the tulle folds. "It's something about us, Bec and I, and you too - we're much too clever to be normal humans, and you're trying to figure out why, aren't you?"

Artemis could tell there was nothing to be gained by resistance. "Exactly. We're smart, you and I - and Becquerel, as well. The fairies were wrong to wipe your memories. Work with me now, Demia." His voice was earnest, blue eyes softening a little. "Work with me to get this shuttle landed somewhere safely, out of harm's way, and trust the LEP. Trust me. I'll get you back your memories."

"And you can do that?"

"Demia, when I set my mind to a venture, it tends to succeed." His voice and face were, for once, entirely open. Entirely honest. "Work with me now, and I promise you that I will do everything in my power to ensure your recollections of the People are restored."

He wasn't exactly lying. Artemis knew there was no way the LEP would allow him to follow through on that particular promise, but he also knew that Demia did not need to know that. He could promise to do everything in his power and hold to those words by the letter - it just wouldn't make any difference. Artemis knew that if there existed a possibility to resolve this situation without further drama, it was worth the small deception. Even with that logic, it made his stomach twist a little with guilt to see Demia's eyes light up.

"Deal. You know, that's all I wanted? The truth." She extended her hand, and Artemis shook it. "Come on - let's go talk to Bec."

-x-

A set of recordings had been set to play every thirty minutes as a reminder for passengers of the in-flight rules. Lily Frond was just about through the third repeat of the Gnommish message - "And if you wish to engage manual mode, please -"

If he hadn't been concerned over accidentally crashing the shuttle, Bec would have already tried to find a way to turn the announcements off. Sitting in the pilot's chair with one thumb folded over the other, his head was tilted back so that his ponytail hung over the back of the chair. He had to slouch down pretty far for his head to even hit the headrest, his spine contorted to the dimensions of a chair designed for a fairy pilot. "Demia," he said without turning around, "I _told _you not to let him out!"

"You're not the boss, and I think he can actually help us!" Demia, leading Artemis by the arm, bounced on the balls of her feet for a moment, feeling the thrumming of the shuttle echo up through the thin rubber of her shoes. "Besides, I'm smarter than you, so there! He can read what's up on that screen, so we need him to tell us if there's a warning or something important there!"

"Uh-huh." Bec looked from one face to the other, his nose crinkled. "A warning of what, exactly?"

"Well, a warning about the autopilot, or maybe a warning that we're going somewhere where people will know where we are? If it's programmed to fly the same way every time, then it doesn't take a genius to figure that one out!" She beamed.

That was when the screen crackled to life.

-x-

Kelp was not happy.

As if a shuttleport breach were not problem enough, a shuttle had launched without any trace, and it had taken three humans with it. One of them was Artemis Fowl, and the other two were individuals that Artemis Fowl felt the need to deal with personally. He hadn't needed much of a conversation with LEPfoul's most anxious intern to figure out that this was clearly a problem.

By the time he tracked down an individual with the technical expertise to hack into the stolen shuttle's camera feed, Kelp was downright livid at the entire situation. He was starting to understand why Commander Root had constantly been the shade of a beet; in fact, his own complexion was doing something similar by the time a video link was established.

"Fowl!" Kelp barked in Gnommish, taking in the sight of the three occupants of the shuttle. "What is going on here?"

Artemis looked impressed. "That is eerie," he responded in the same language, "Have you been practising your Root impersonations, Commander?"

Obviously, he was not in serious danger. This just made Kelp angrier. "Fowl, you have thirty seconds to tell me what is going on."

Before Artemis could respond, Becquerel sat up and cut in. "Art, what's he saying?"

"Fairies have the gift of tongues!" Demia piped up.

"Yes, we're aware of this," responded Commander Kelp in perfect English before directing his attention back to Artemis. "Fowl, what is going on?"

"Hey, now. Not cool!" Bec sprung up from the chair, rocking forward a little bit to keep his balance against the movement of the shuttle. "You know, there's two of us and one of him! Technically, he's our hostage, so you negotiate with Miss Carter and myself, not Artemis!"

Kelp shifted back. "Is that so? Fowl, are you feeling threatened?"

Artemis folded his arms. "Not especially, no."

"Right. This is how it's going to be, then. When the shuttle lands, you will not disembark. All three of you will sit on your hands and wait for a team to collect you. Nobody will try anything funny. We have the location of your vehicle and are tracking it as we speak. This situation is under our control, not yours, so go back to twiddling your thumbs and wait." Kelp paused, slipping back into Gnommish to address Artemis one last time. "Fowl, we will have serious words about this later."

"I don't think so." Becquerel Jones sat down in the pilot's seat once more. "I don't know what you just said to him, but I don't like it."

As if to make a point he reached for the steering controls, grabbing both joysticks at once and pulling them both backwards, steadily, evenly. It was exactly the same way one would brake a car in a videogame, and exactly the last thing he should have done.

"Autopilot disengaged," announced Lily Frond's chipper voice. "Have a happy flight!"

Kelp watched, helpless, as the scene before him dissolved into chaos. As the camera was mounted to the walls of the craft, the room itself did not seem to change. Instead, it appeared that the three humans simultaneously flew to the left, and then fell upwards to the ceiling. Someone swore. Someone else screamed. Somebody squeaked.

A moment later, an upside-down Artemis entered the top of the frame. "Call you back," he panted, and before Kelp could say another word, the screen went dark.

-x-

Without automatic stabilizers to handle the roaring air currents within the chute, the shuttle had entered freefall.

Artemis landed on the roof of the shuttle, still clinging with one hand to the pilot's chair as he attempted to use the other to type a command into the communication system. Behind him, Bec was still screaming, while Demia was attempting to crawl towards her friend.

The comm screen cleared to reveal the LEPfoul boiler room. It was almost unrecognizable without the boilers. Holly was in the centre of the frame, looking over the camera as she wrapped up a lecture to the interns.

The shuttle bumped again and Artemis's arm slipped as he was thrown backwards once more. For a brief instant, he may as well have been twelve years old again, trying desperately to hold to the side of a speeding train above the Arctic Circle. The flashback passed; he reached forward once more to the communication box. "Holly!"

"Please tell me you're upside-down because we're having interference problems again," said the elf, watching as Artemis began once more to slide out of view. In the background, Demia had managed to reach Becquerel, grabbing for his hand. She leaned in against him to say something; he finally stopped screaming.

"Holly!" repeated Artemis, another bump nearly sending him flying across the shuttle once more. "Autopilot - how do I fix it?"

"What model of shuttle are you in?" Seeing the chaos on the screen, Holly was completely composed. It wouldn't do them any good to lose her head now.

"RAFS!" Artemis gasped before losing his grip once more on the pilot's seat. He flew out of frame, and something inside the vehicle crashed; it was a tense few seconds before the top of his head popped into view again on the left side of the screen. In the background Demia and Becquerel huddled together, wedged behind one of the passenger's seats to try and minimize their movement.

"Right. Arty, there should be a panel beneath this communications console. Get it open - third switch to the right should do it."

Artemis didn't bother replying, conserving his breath. Instead, Holly watched as, inch by inch, the top of his head travelled slowly down the left side of the screen. The vehicle rolled once more in freefall, buffeted by the air currents roaring around the small craft, and all three Changelings were thrown to the other side of the room. Bec began to scream again. At least this time they seemed to have landed right-side up, as Artemis momentarily regained his footing. He popped up briefly before ducking down beneath the camera to pry the panel open. In such an old vehicle, the console hadn't been opened in years - it stuck.

"Fowl! Status report!" barked Holly.

"Won't open!"

"Well, you're the genius, so figure it out!" Back in the boiler room, Holly's knuckles were white.

"Wait - Myles!" exclaimed Artemis, reaching inside his jacket pocket for the laser pointer that his brother had sheepishly returned that afternoon.

"Is it open yet?" asked Holly once more, taking his statement as confirmation of a plan. Artemis twisted his wrist a little bit, aiming the laser beam to slice down the hinges of the door. It melted through the metal effortlessly, and the panel sprung open.

"Found it!" he replied, reaching for the button.

-x-

She almost knew the shuttle would crash the moment before it did. After all, nothing was ever that easy.

The shuttle jolted one final time, slamming all three Changelings against the ceiling of the craft. Becquerel Jones abruptly stopped screaming, and for a moment the video frame froze entirely. The next second it had gone completely dark, though the audio persisted for a little while longer. Metal screeched as the craft hit the side of the chute, the exterior of the craft crumpling on impact. The sounds of shattering rock persisted, louder than the shuttle's collapse. Artemis was yelling, but she couldn't make out his words through the din.

"I can't hear you, Artemis!" she yelled into the console, leaning forward to try and make her own voice audible.

"Holl -" Artemis began again, before the screech of tearing metal cut him off.

Then the audio feed died, and all was silent.

-x-

_(To be continued in the season finale...)_


	8. 107: Troll Contingency Plan (2)

EPISODE 1.07: TROLL CONTINGENCY PLAN (2)

_Season Finale. Foul Team races to the crash site, and they'd better have a troll contingency plan ready._

-x-

**Authors' Warning: As the season finale, expect mood whiplash and emotional turmoil. This carries on directly from 1.06, so make sure you've read that first or the team's current crisis may not make sense! **

-x-

The LEPfoul boiler room was silent, the disassembled boilers unable to whine an interruption. The interns stood in a row in the centre of the room, staring stunned at their leader.

Holly did not speak. Nor could she move, her eyes frozen on the blank screen before her. _Not again,_ she thought desperately, _not again, not again -_

It was Dodo who moved first, reaching a hand to tentatively touch Holly's arm. The elf jerked out of her reach, blinking hard. "Caltrop," Holly said sharply, without even turning to look at him. "Get that line back."

Gulping nervously, the water sprite slid into the chair in front of the desk to type a command.

"Is it back yet?" Holly asked.

"Um, glub, not -"

"You're fired. Sass - get Foaly in here now. I don't care what it takes."

The centaur anxiously tapped a hoof to the floor. "I think he's on vacation?"

"You're fired. Get him in here anyways."

Sass saluted, trotting for the door. "Will do, boss lady."

Caltrop was twisting nervously in his seat to stare at Holly. He considered clarifying whether he had actually been fired, saw the look on Holly's face, and continued to attempt a retrieval of the shuttle link instead.

"And Dodo - pull up the location stats on the shuttle. Now."

"On it," the dwarf replied immediately, and scurried over to the intern terminal.

Holly watched her interns, fists clenched and breathing hard. From behind her came a new voice.

"Hey, Holly! Who died and put you in charge?"

Holly turned slowly. Mulch saw her expression and took a cringing step back. "Wait, you have your someone-actually-did-die face on. Who was it? And where's Mud Boy?" The sequence of his questions caught up with him. "Oh. Oh no."

Holly was already walking briskly towards the door, grabbing his arm as she passed. "I'll explain on the way."

-x-

"Look, dude, I can't let you in. Unless you're here to play with the kids, and frankly, I'd welcome that because they're a handful." The artificial intelligence released a hiss of steam; the sound came out as a sigh.

"Look, _dude_," retorted Sass, "It's an emergency. An Uncle Ted emergency."

"Oh." The artificial intelligence paused for a moment, running the code word through the database. "Oh, I see. That's not good, is it?"

Sass stomped a hoof. "As I've been saying, no, it's not! Now lemme talk to Uncle Foaly!"

"Patching you through now. Have a _wonderful_ day."

-x-

Caltrop had never imagined that he'd come to enjoy his job. It was a way to stay out of prison and evade the talons of the dread Lucia, nothing more. And yet...there was something to be said for being able to call himself "Head Intern." Something to be said for being part of a team.

He hoped Holly hadn't meant it when she fired him, and so he trailed silently after her and Mulch, waiting for an opportunity to state his case. It didn't seem to be forthcoming - the elf had already gone about the business of bumping a patrol team to commandeer their vehicle for a rescue mission, while Mulch stood at her shoulder making menacing faces at anybody who dared protest.

Actually, he may have just been constipated. Caltrop moved upwind.

The sprite might even have gotten aboard the shuttle entirely unnoticed if not for Lucia. As the doors to the vehicle swung shut, the canary gave a piercing cry. "She's here!" exclaimed Caltrop.

Mulch whirled around. "Holly, one of your interns followed us."

The elf had already strapped herself into the pilot's seat, her teeth bared in a grimace. "Chlorella, how much do you know about chute speed limits?"

"I - don't?"

"Good." She turned back to Mulch. "He can stay."

Lucia made the mistake of choosing Mulch as her first target. A moment before the doors sealed completely, the bird swooped down at the dwarf's face. Mulch responded by opening his mouth and looking up.

"I like this intern. He brought a snack," he mumbled around a mouthful of canary.

"You can't _eat _her!" cried Caltrop. "That's cruel!"

Reluctantly, Mulch spat the bird back out. Wrapped entirely in dwarf spit, she glared menacingly at her foes. The dwarf patted her on the head gently, swore as she nearly took a chunk out of his fingertip with her beak, and tucked her carefully inside a pocket to save for later.

There was no more time for banter, as the shuttle shot out of the docking port like a cork from a bottle. Despite himself, Caltrop gave a squeak of terror at the acceleration. Mulch laughed.

"You've never seen her fly before, have you? Oh, this is going to be fun."

Holly's glare immediately shut them both up, and the rest of the trip was spent in silent trepidation.

-x-

From the tiny camera lens of the artificial dragonfly, Foaly's face appeared incredibly large and oddly round. He glared up into the lens, brushing a hoof against the forest floor in irritation. Artificial sunlight filtered down through the leaves, just one of the perks that merited the three year waiting list. "Someone had better be dying."

Sass rubbed the back of her neck. "Well-"

"Oh no. What's going on?" Sass opened her mouth to speak and Foaly added hastily, "And not so loud. Caballine might hear."

"Well, you know how you rigged those RAFS shuttles so they wouldn't respond to humans?"

Foaly's eyes bulged. Given the rounded lens, this appeared even more impressive than it was. "Please don't tell me Artemis managed to break -"

"If it helps, I don't think he was the one that broke it. I think he was trying to stop them."

"Them," Foaly repeated. "Them? Multiples?"

Sass nodded, tugging at a lock of green hair as she studied her uncle's panicked face. The last time she had seen him so upset had been during an incident involving a picnic basket, a barbeque grill, and several gnomes from accounting.

On second thought, she was pretty sure his current expression was probably worse. "Look, Uncle Foaly - I think Aunty Caballine will understand you coming back for this one."

-x-

An hour later, Dodo was shoved out of her chair by a frantic-looking centaur who bore a striking resemblance to Sass. Minus the fluorescent hair, of course. "Pardon -?"

"I'm here to save Mud Boy's bacon. Again." Foaly shook his head for a moment. "It's kind of a habit. I used to be head of a chess club, we met every Wednesday, they had great sandwiches, but now I do this." The whole time he spoke, the centaur typed away at the terminal, pulling up and discarding interfaces. "Ah, there we go - found them!"

"I've got Holly and the others on a line here," said Dodo as she passed over a headset, deciding she could get a proper explanation later. Foaly hooked the headset over one ear, and - after a moment of rummaging around in Artemis's desk drawer - pulled another one online and set it jauntily on the other side of his head.

"Right. Let's see how big of a mess he made this time." Foaly cracked his knuckles, forcing a grin. "I'm sure whatever it is, we've seen worse."

He clicked the button. The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

-x-

"They should have picked up by now," whined Caltrop anxiously.

Holly glared.

The line continued to ring.

-x-

Artemis's ears were ringing.

It was dark, but that might have been because his eyes were closed. He hurt everywhere, but that was actually an encouraging sign. Hurting meant he wasn't dead again - Holly would be pleased. And as nowhere in particular hurt more than anywhere else, that was another good sign. Still, he ran through the checklist before attempting to sit up.

_Dead? No. Legs, arms, ribs - check, check, check (I think). Do I know where I am? Metal surface, uneven - another no, then. Do I remember what happened? Yes - Jones crashed the shuttle. That explains the metal. If we landed upside down, then I am laying on the roof. Or what remains of it. _

Not the most eloquent chain of thoughts, but he had long since pared down his mental checklist to the bare essentials. Having determined that he was alive, relatively unharmed, and in a familiar environment, he opened his eyes. It didn't help much, as the room really _was_ dark. As Artemis wiggled his fingers, something cool and cylindrical rolled across his palm. _Oh._ If that was what he thought it was - Artemis fumbled with the device and managed to find the switch. A thin, red laser beam shot through the roof, making a faint hissing sound as it carved through the metal.

_Excellent_. Somehow, he had managed to keep hold of his laser pointer during the crash. Artemis was rather proud. He thumbed the dial, muting the focus of the light so it could serve as a flashlight. Suitably armed, he sat up and realized that the ringing wasn't only in his ears.

-x-

The line clicked and Holly wondered whether Foaly had given up. She opened her mouth to snap at him to try again when a familiar - though currently quite feeble - voice sounded on the other end. "I'm alive."

Holly let out a breath. "We weren't worried about you," she said quickly. "But what in Frond's name did you manage to _do_ to that shuttle?"

"You can see it?" Artemis asked. He attempted a smile, even though the link was audio-only.

There was a pause. "Well, we can see the mess it made. You were lucky. The shuttle hit a tunnel at the right angle and followed it down pretty far. Plenty of room to shed velocity. Your tracking equipment's all scrambled, which means the shuttle kept rolling as it slid. That probably saved your life - lots of bumps but no sudden stops. Rocks caved in behind you, but we've got Mulch here to handle that. He'll dig you out. How about the others - anyone harmed?"

There was a pause and the sound of shifting metal. "Someone's coming around," he answered. "I'll go check."

"We'll be here," Holly said, "And Artemis?" She tapped four times on the mic.

Two taps by the way of reply, and then the rattle of loose stones as he moved away from the comm.

-x-

Artemis was halfway through the wreck of the shuttle, keeping his movements slow and deliberate as the metal creaked and groaned around him. It didn't even look like a shuttle anymore - as it had rolled through the rocks and into the tunnel, long strips of the outer casing had been torn clean off while smaller pieces of stone had rained down inside.

He could hear the sounds of someone stirring ahead of him, and aimed the light ahead. The beam fell on Becquerel's face. The teenager uncurled slowly, grumbling in protest. His face was smeared on one side with dirt, his jacket was torn from the slide down the tunnel, and a spectacular bruise was beginning to blossom on his forehead. Despite this, he still had the vigour to flail reflexively back from the light.

"Gerroff!" the teen snarled, waving an arm over his eyes.

"Good, you survived," said Artemis, sounding a lot more chipper than he felt. "Demia?"

"I'm here!" the girl cried, and popped up behind Bec to dust off her skirt. In contrast to her companion, her eyes were bright and her teeth gleamed in the dark as she smiled. "Wow, what a tumble. Lucky I landed on Bec!"

"Lucky," Bec repeated grouchily, lowering his arm. By way of response, Artemis flicked the light once more to Becquerel's face. "Argh! What was that for?"

"Checking your pupillary reflex," replied Artemis coolly. "Good. You're not concussed. Stay where you are. We were buried by a rockfall, but I'm working on securing us a way out."

"Like you were working on making sure we crashed in the first place? Art, I heard you when we were falling - nobody sounds that calm in a crash unless it's exactly where they want to be." Bec pushed himself up on his elbows, grimacing. Artemis paused.

"I failed to see how sitting there and screaming would help the situation. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You sounded like you knew exactly what you were doing."

Artemis didn't see the point in arguing. Instead, by way of response, Artemis shot him once more with the light.

"Stop doing that!" yelled Bec, raising his voice for the first time since regaining consciousness. Somewhere above the shuttle and to the left, something gave a menacing growl.

A low growl, a bloodthirsty growl.

A familiar growl.

Artemis flicked the light off.

-x-

She heard the skittering of stones before Artemis's voice whispered, "Everyone's accounted for. Jones is likely concussed, and Carter is unharmed."

"Good to hear it," Holly responded, "But we've got a problem. I thought it was pushing luck even for you that your shuttle just happened to hit the one tunnel in the chute. So I had Foaly pull up the schematics, and it turns out -"

"Trolls," Artemis said softly. "They shut down the chute because of the trolls. There's probably a whole network of tunnels running all through this side of the rock. Crashing into one was like throwing a rock into an anthill."

"Yes," she said in surprise. "How did you - Oh no. You're whispering."

"Yes, Holly. I am whispering for a reason."

"No need to get snippy with the rescue party," she retorted. "How close is it?"

Artemis paused. "I think it may be "them.""

Mulch moved closer to the speaker. "Hey, Artemis! You'll have to talk louder, I can't hear you!" As if in agreement, Lucia wiggled in his pocket and let out a bloodthirsty screech.

"You brought the _bird_ with you?" Artemis hissed.

"Saving her for a snack," Mulch responded cheerfully.

Holly raised her hands in defeat.

-x-

Becquerel waited until Artemis had moved to the other end of the shuttle before rolling over towards Demia. "We have a problem," he told her grimly.

"I'll say - you're a mess," she responded. "Not very good at adventures, are you? That's fair enough - this is my first adventure, too. I hear the learning curve is steep but we're smart, we can do it."

"That's just it, though," Bec said. "Art is much too calm. No matter how steep the learning curve is, there's no way you can get used to something like this. Not unless you planned it."

Demia bit her lip. "But he said he would help."

"Doesn't mean he meant it. Man, Demi, you really need to stop being so trusting."

She folded her arms and stared at him. "You're still upset over the dwarf thing. I get it. But I don't think anyone would want to be inside a crashing shuttle."

"You heard him, though, when we were crashing. Talking to that girl, doing something with the panel - he was making sure it crashed properly. Do you think it's a coincidence that we started to fall the moment the other fairy - the one who seemed to be in charge - decided we weren't going to cooperate? _Think_, Demia. However we get out of this situation, Art's not going to be part of it."

"I dunno." Demia gnawed on her lower lip for a moment. She shifted a little, sending rocks tumbling down the slope behind her. "He seemed scared of whatever's growling outside."

"Of course he wants us to think that! Look - we're right where he needs us to be. We need to get out of here, Demi. Please, just trust me."

The girl twisted to peer over the rubble to where Artemis still sat, talking quietly into the communication's console. Finally, she gave a small nod. "Okay. I'm with you, Bec."

-x-

Artemis had begun to wear a path through the rubble from the number of times he had picked his way between the comm device and the Changelings.

"I think Bec might actually be concussed after all," noted Demia, her brow furrowed in concern. "He tried to stand up, and -" She crinkled her nose. "Yuck."

Bec lifted his head from where he had hunched over in the corner, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "I hate you, Art."

Artemis shrugged, maintaining a safe distance from both Changelings. "My mistake. You blinked."

"Are you serious -"

"What did I tell you about being quiet?" Artemis snapped with a careful glance upwards. The growling had resumed, and he continued to speak in a whisper. "We've got a rescue party on the way, so we simply need to wait for them to arrive. Stay quiet - trolls are adapted to the dark, and so their sense of hearing is keen."

"Wait, if they're magic, shouldn't we try to get them to help us?" asked Demia, rubbing Bec's shoulder.

"You can't be serious. What part of your brain hears growling and assumes it's friendly?" asked Artemis, before shooting a pointed glare at Becquerel. "I take that back. My point is, trolls are perfectly capable of tearing through the walls of the shuttle to get to us, so just stay quiet, please."

"So if they hear us, they'll come inside and we'll have to move?" Demia straightened her spine, lifting her hand from Becquerel's shoulder. "I understand perfectly!"

Artemis went cold. He suddenly knew what she was about to do, but there was no way to stop her.

-x-

The shrill scream carried over the comm line as Holly swung the shuttle sharply to the side, nestling it in against the tract the crash had scorched in the rock. Her hand hovered over the controls for a moment, waiting for the docking clamps to engage and secure them against the side of the chute. She'd have to watch them manually; the chute walls were thin and crumbled easily under any kind of pressure. "Fowl, what happened?"

For a long moment, there was no human reply on the other end. The girl's scream petered out. Half a second later, the sound of tearing metal began again. For one gut-wrenching moment Holly wondered if the shuttle had slipped down a slope or began to roll once more; almost immediately, the predatory growl of a troll hit the comm, settling that bout of fear and raising a whole new crop of questions.

"Eek!" the female voice piped up in the distance, "I know why you wanted us to stay quiet now!"

-x-

The troll had managed to reach one hand through the hole it had torn in the shuttle's wall, and the rest of it would not take long to follow. "Get behind me," Artemis ordered, fiddling once more with his laser pointer. When neither of the Changelings moved, he snapped, "Unless you'd prefer to learn firsthand what those tusks can do."

It was Demia who gathered her wits enough to pull Bec into the corner behind Artemis. "Do you have a magic weapon?"

"Yes," he said shortly. The troll barged the rest of the way through the wall and turned towards its prey. Artemis flicked on the light.

The resulting roar was truly impressive.

"I think I like magic," Demia noted. Bec threw up again.

-x-

"Yes, I recognize your right to dress according to preference," Holly growled at Mulch, "But the heat in the chute will fry you alive if you aren't wearing the protective suit on the way to the blockage. You can take it off as soon as you're in the tunnel and ready to start digging."

Mulch was about to put up another token protest even as he reached for the heat resistant suit in the side locker when Artemis's voice sounded again through the comm.

"I bought us some time."

Holly leaned forward. "How did you manage-?"

"My laser pointer." The Mud Boy sounded proud. "I installed a setting for just this sort of situation. Wavelength of the beam's calibrated to 500 nanometres - pure cyan. Hardest wavelength for rod cells to process, overloaded the nocturnal visual system completely. Should put the troll out of commission for roughly five minutes while the retina adjusts to the dark again." He frowned. "Ten, actually, but I'm cutting my estimate in half to be safe."

"Safe. Right. And after five minutes?"

"I shoot it again."

Caltrop looked up in interest. "You installed a troll setting? That's what you meant by having a t-troll contingency plan! You put a troll light in that thing because you c-carry it around."

"The other way around. I carry it because I installed a troll setting, obviously."

"Of course you did," said Holly through clenched teeth. "Can you get out of there now?"

"Yes, but I'm taking the communication module with me."

"It's attached to the dock, you can't -"

A hissing sound crackled over the line as the laser pointer sliced cleanly through the module attachment. Despite the grim situation inside the downed shuttle, Artemis nearly grinned as he caught the newly-freed comm before it could clatter to the floor. "Done. I'll talk to you when I've caught up with the others."

-x-

Bec jerked to a stop, pulling on Demia's hand so she wouldn't leave him behind. "Hang on," he groaned, and bent over. "I think I read somewhere that running is bad for a concussion."

Demia rolled her eyes, but she waited for him to catch his breath. "We'd better keep moving," she reminded him. "If the troll can see in the dark then he'll have the advantage. We'd better find someplace to hide."

With another moan, Bec straightened up and passed her his phone. It had been turned to the highest brightness setting in order to act as a light to guide their path, although both Changelings knew the battery could not last forever. "Take the lead," he said. "Art's probably right behind us."

Demia was biting her lip again. "I think you were right - he knew exactly what to do with the troll."

"Of course I was right. Now keep moving. I'll keep an eye on our rear."

-x-

It had taken considerable effort even for Foaly to be able to hack into the backup communication system of the shuttle in order to set up another line to Artemis. So when the signal began moving, the centaur nearly had a fit.

"Does he _realize_ it could go out of range at any time?" he wailed, typing furiously.

Dodo patted him on the shoulder and handed him another cup of fresh-made coffee. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. I hear that you're the best."

"I am the best," agreed Foaly, feeling slightly better. "Even Fowl admits it. I knew I hired you for a reason, Feldspar."

Dodo almost argued that she'd heard otherwise from Artemis himself, but decided to let it rest. This was probably the wrong time to pick a fight.

-x-

The path that the Changelings had stumbled upon led up a natural slope in the rock. It narrowed as they followed it, the sides of the path falling away sharply from the light of Bec's cell phone. Occasionally, Demia would tip it upward, attempting to make out the cavern ahead of them, but the light was not strong enough to illuminate much of anything.

They'd been following the path for several minutes before something growled directly ahead. The ground vibrated twice and Demia stopped, tucking the light into her pocket so it shone against her leg.

"It's on the bridge," whispered Bec, a little bit needlessly.

"We have to pass it," Demia told him resolutely. "But it's okay, I know how this works. Littlest one first."

"_What? Are you insane?"_

"No! I just studied Norwegian folklore. You know, my dad went there on sabbatical," she explained. "Three Billy Goats Gruff. If we count Artemis, there are three of us, so it works perfectly. The troll lets the first two goats pass because they promise another, larger goat is right behind them. And then the largest goat knows there's a troll there, so he just knocks it off the bridge! Artemis has the magic light, so he'll be fine."

Bec was less certain. "Can we even negotiate with it?"

She nodded quickly. "Most of the stories say trolls are really smart, even if they're mean. You just have to know how to talk to them! It'll be okay, it's an adventure."

"I don't think that's how adventures work, Demi."

"I know it's scary but in fairy tales and adventures you have to be brave. I'm smaller, so I'll go first." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, before skipping off into the dark.

-x-

In the middle of the bridge, the troll lifted its head.

-x-

Artemis heard a scream. It cut off abruptly.

He started to run.

-x-

"Was that - was that Artemis?" asked Caltrop, bubbles rising rapidly in his gill tank.

"No." Holly looked to Mulch, who had finally managed to squeeze himself into the heat-resistant suit. "Fowl's a lot more squeaky when he panics."

"I can still hear you!" came Artemis's voice over the comm. He was out of breath, having just reached the slope that led to the bridge.

"Oh, good, decided to join us again?" Holly was snippy - he'd been ignoring her requests for a status report for the last five minutes and she'd had to reattach the shuttle to the chute wall twice already, as the clamps kept slipping loose.

"I was running," he said, spotting a light on the bridge up ahead. It was clear and white and narrow, the sort of light produced by the screen of an electronic device. The light shone dimly up towards the ceiling of the cavern, fading before it could reach any kind of roof. Something bulky moved in the shadows, beyond the edge of illumination. Artemis paused, watching the light source intently for a moment. It was still.

"You? Running?"

"Yes. And therefore not talking." Artemis kept his eyes fixed upon the bridge ahead, switching his laser pointer back to produce a wide beam of red light. _700nm. Should be beyond the visible range of the trolls, though if Becquerel and Demia are still there, they'll see it. If not -_

He couldn't let himself finish that thought.

"Are Carter and Jones with you?" Holly asked, returning her attention once more to the docking clamps. The new segment of wall that the rescue shuttle had latched onto kept threatening to crumble again, and the last thing they needed was another crash.

Artemis did not reply, shining his light down along the ridge that fell away from the path. If anyone had escaped, it would have been down that way. At first, it seemed as though there would be no sign - then something caught the light and reflected it back to him.

A single rainboot laying alone on its side. It told Artemis all he needed to know.

He swallowed hard and moved the light past the boot, tracking it slowly up to the surface of the bridge. A moment later, hand shaking, he returned the beam to the boot. A deep breath to steady his grip and then - just as slowly - Artemis began to examine the lower half of the slope. Just beyond the reach of the light was a small outcropping of boulders and it almost looked as though something human-sized was moving on the other side of them - he thought he saw the swish of Becquerel's ponytail - but it was too far away to know for sure. He switched off the laser pointer to conserve battery. If the Changeling was there, he was not looking up; if he moved, Artemis would hear it.

He finally answered Holly's question, his voice flat. "I might have Jones."

"And Carter?"

Artemis shook his head but didn't answer. "Tell Mulch to bring the bird."

"The what?"

"The _bird,"_ he snapped as loudly as he dared. His fingers curled around the comm. "I think I can get him out of here, but I need the bird."

"Lucia's a liability," Holly replied as calmly as she could, adjusting the docking clamps one last time to be sure they would remain anchored to the side of the chute as Mulch finally prepared to leave the vehicle. "I won't send her in there. Does Mulch have a clear path to get you out?"

"Holly," whispered Artemis, "Please just trust me. I can get Becquerel Jones out of here alive, but I need the bird to do it."

On the other side of the line the elf tilted her head back and counted backwards from four in her head, exhaling slowly. By the time she reached zero, Holly had decided. "Fine." She waved a hand at Mulch, who picked Lucia back up from where he had set her aside for safekeeping. With her wings glued to her sides by dwarf spit, the bird could do nothing more menacing than chirp in a threatening way. Grumbling to himself about the waste of a perfectly good snack as he tucked Lucia inside his heat-resistant suit for protection, Mulch promptly ejected himself from the shuttle and began to dig.

And then there was nothing left for Holly to do but wait.

-x-

It was the longest fifteen minutes Artemis had experienced in years.

He remained crouched in the dark at the side of the path, the comm held tightly in his hand. Every sixty seconds, four beats sounded over the line; Artemis would respond with two taps of his finger against the comm's mic. To anything else in the tunnel the sound would be inaudible, but it echoed loud and clear through the shuttle's speakers.

Artemis had learned through plenty of observation that Mulch was a fast tunneller, but he recognized that it would take time to create a safe path through the debris field. He tried to occupy his time by calculating just how long the dwarf would take but gave up as there was no way to accurately recall how far the shuttle had rolled.

So when the ground trembled to his right, Artemis jumped and almost hit it with his comm.

"Oh look," said Mulch once he'd swallowed a last mouthful of dirt. He pulled himself out of the hole. "Here I am, saving you from trolls again. And here you are, not appreciating it." After a moment of rummaging around in his reluctantly-worn protective suit, the dwarf produced Lucia with a flourish. "Just like old times."

The bird shook a small cascade of loose earth from her plumage, and gave a disgruntled squawk.

-x-

"I still don't understand why I can't just ride the troll to freedom," repeated Mulch in token protest.

"We're only safe now because we've avoided drawing their attention," Artemis whispered. "I've heard more than one of them moving over there, but can't get an accurate count from here - we need crowd control." He reached for his tie and had to look down to find it, as it had twisted to hang over his shoulder at some point amidst the crash or subsequent scrambling. He pulled it forward again, loosening the knot before pulling the tie from around his neck.

"So you're grooming?" Mulch asked skeptically.

Artemis subjected him to the Patented Fowl Glare, which didn't translate well in the dim light of Mulch's headlamp. "Where's the bird?"

"I am told her name is Lucia," Mulch said delicately, but he passed the canary over to Artemis. Still encased in glowing dwarf spit, she was helpless. She squawked once more and Mulch looked up worriedly. "The trolls have probably noticed us now. Should I glue her mouth shut?"

"That wouldn't fit with the plan," Artemis said softly, concentrating on using his tie to secure his laser pointer to Lucia's claws.

Mulch looked over the resulting knot critically and spat a wad of spit into his hand before rubbing it all over the bird's claws. Lucia croaked unhappily.

Across the bridge, something stirred.

"That will have to do," Artemis decided, and flicked the dial to the troll setting. "She's ready."

Mulch began carefully freeing the hardened spit from her wings, attempting to brush down the feathers. "You know, there's a water sprite back in the shuttle that will be very sad to see Lucia go."

"Knowing her, she'll be just fine," responded Artemis.

Mulch straightened and thrust his arms into the air. "If you say so. Be free!" he told the canary, opening his hands to release her. "Fly, noble bird!"

-x-

The noble bird flew all of two feet before she came to terms with her surroundings, appraised the situation, and decided who was to blame.

Following a tradition nearly a decade long, the canary immediately concluded that Artemis was the one responsible for everything that was currently wrong with the situation. She would have her revenge. Stretching her wings - ah, freedom! - and wheeling sharply in the air, she released a magnificent battle cry, testing her voice in the confined space. It echoed beautifully, the sound bouncing off the rock walls to magnify and emanate from every surface at once.

For one spectacular moment, her momentum balanced perfectly against gravity. Lucia was weightless.

The next instant, she tucked her talons in as far as they would go with the extra weight she was carrying, and _dove_.

-x-

"Mud Boy - !" Mulch shifted backwards away from Artemis the moment the beam of cyan light dipped in the air as the bird wheeled above them.

"Get to Jones!" Though he hadn't relished the prospect of more running, Artemis had assumed that Lucia would not be one to let grudges go quite so easily. There was only one way to lure the bird towards her intended targets, and so Artemis took one step out onto the bridge, and then another.

Lucia cried out as she went down for the kill. Rather than tearing into the back of his head with her talons, the bird only succeeded in hitting Artemis from behind with the tip of the laser pointer. The genius stumbled forwards, instinctively closing his eyes to prevent from being blinded by the beam as it darted off to the side of the path, the bird circling around for another approach -

_Nearly there._

He was two feet away from Demia's dropped cell phone when Lucia noticed the bigger target waiting at the end of the bridge. She screeched, shooting out over Artemis's head with the troll light still pointed directly before her.

At the end of the bridge, the troll looked up and gave a snarl.

_Perfect._

Artemis didn't wait for further confirmation; he already knew from Bec's position behind the rocks that traversing the slope at the side of the bridge was survivable, and so he paused for only a moment at the edge before momentum caught up with him and he slid. It wasn't graceful; his arms pinwheeled in a frantic attempt to keep his balance before his feet slipped out from beneath him entirely. A small rockslide accompanied him down the slope, and he barely managed to avoid tumbling into Mulch, who had by now managed to cross the lower path.

"The bird won't have a chance," the dwarf said pointedly, glancing upwards. Artemis shook his head as the roar of a blinded troll shook the walls of the cave.

"Lucia always goes for the eyes," he panted. "The light - she'll keep them busy!"

-x-

And then Becquerel Jones finally pushed himself up out of his hiding space, eyes wide and face pale in the bleary light cast by Mulch's headlamp. At some point over the last few minutes his hair had come tumbling out of his ponytail - it now hung limply around his face, and he pushed it back from his forehead with a trembling hand. For a moment the two genii studied each other warily.

"Demi -" Bec began, his voice hoarse.

"We need to go," Artemis said firmly. "I'm sorry."

Bec's eyes fell on Mulch. "You!"

"Yes, me," the dwarf said cheerfully. "Can we go now?"

"No, Demi - Demi said she'd be back," said Becquerel, his gaze snapping back to Artemis. "She knew what she was doing. Nobody knows folklore better than her."

"And no one knows trolls better than me," Artemis said rapidly. "Troll tusks contain an anesthetic that, within minutes of contact with the bloodstream, will stop the human heart. She's long gone, Becquerel. We need to go."

Becquerel looked down at his hands for just a moment, one thumb tracing over the other. When he returned to watching Artemis, his eyes were hard and his voice hollow. "We're not on a first-name basis, Fowl. We are not friends."

"I'm saving your life anyways. We need to go."

-x-

Mulch brought them out of the tunnel neatly, following the vibrations the loosely-attached docking clamps sent echoing through the rock face to emerge exactly over the port in the shuttle's side. This ensured the humans were not exposed to the heat of the chute for any span of time; unfortunately, the angle of the tunnel left them with a short drop to the floor of the shuttle.

Artemis had brought up the rear on the way back, predicting that Becquerel would attempt to return for Demia at least once. He was correct, and it was only through a well-timed threat from Mulch that the return to the rescue vehicle proceeded according to plan.

"If you two mud boys don't stop fighting back there, I _will _take action!" the dwarf had hissed. Becquerel had gulped and immediately turned back around, crawling silently for the rest of the journey with his mouth firmly closed.

When they reached the shuttle Mulch jumped the last two feet to the floor of the vehicle, shaking himself briskly to clear crumbs of dirt from his beard. Holly glanced anxiously over her shoulder, her hands still tensed around the docking controls as Becquerel flopped limply to the ground. For once Artemis had a little more grace, managing to not land on the other Changeling as he pushed himself free of the earth.

Holly didn't like to ask, but she had never been given verbal confirmation of Carter's status. "Is that everybody?" she said softly.

"No!" said Bec, pushing himself up from the floor, his eyes watering from the sudden light. His forehead wound from the crash had blossomed into a livid purple bruise, and his entire body was shaking.

"Yes," said Artemis without looking at Becquerel. As he limped towards the front of the shuttle, Artemis made a futile attempt to dust off the jacket of his suit. After such a venture, the damage to the garment would of course be irreparable; attempting to neaten his appearance was habit, all the same.

Holly did not need to release the clamps, as they chose that moment to part way entirely with the rockface. The vehicle shuddered a little as she pulled back lightly on the controls to regain stability; both Artemis and Becquerel froze at the sound of loosened rock cascading against the outer shell of the vehicle.

The disturbance didn't last long. Once they were flying, safe in Holly's capable hands, Artemis finally exhaled.

-x-

The entire affair had been resolved in less time than it took for the LEP to assemble a formal rescue mission. Now, there was nothing to do but return to Haven.

Having reassured Holly that he was not injured by the ordeal, Artemis had borrowed her own personal communicator and excused himself to the back of the shuttle to make what he referred to only as "an important phone call." The elf, catching the look on his face, didn't ask any questions beyond that - she simply handed over the device and returned her attention to the flight. She knew that he would be perfectly willing to explain when he was ready, and not a moment sooner.

On his way to the back of the shuttle, where he would be able to talk privately, Artemis had to pass Becquerel Jones. The genius was sitting against the wall of the vehicle with his hand in his hands, hair fallen in front of his face. He rocked back and forth a little bit with the movement of the shuttle, and dug the nails of his right hand so firmly against his left palm that his fingers were the bloodless colour of bone.

"Jones?" asked Artemis softly. "What can I -"

Before Artemis could finish the question, the teenager had sprung to his feet. Bec swung wildly; both were surprised when his fist connected with Artemis's cheek.

Had this happened under any other circumstances, onlookers would have cheered. As it was, Caltrop simply slipped in between the two Mud Boys before the situation could escalate even further. For the first time in this escapade, he had seen an opportunity to be useful.

"Easy there, easy," he told Bec, raising both hands as he looked up into the teenager's eyes. _"Calm down, everything's fine. It's all right. Why don't you sit back down?" _

Bec's brow creased, and it looked as though he was going to argue before the magic of the _mesmer_ caught him. "I... think I'll sit down now," he decided, shooting one last glare at Artemis, who had raised his hand gingerly to the side of his face.

Holly didn't even turn around. "Fowl, do I need to come heal you again?"

Artemis prodded at the already forming bruise and winced. "No, I almost think I deserved that."

As Artemis retreated to make his phone call, Holly knew better than to fight him. Attacks of conscience were rare enough for her friend; she may as well allow this one to run its course.

-x-

Upon arriving at the Haven shuttleport, the craft was swarmed with LEP officers, emergency responders, an entire retrieval team, and a warlock before Holly had a chance to even shut off the engine. "You pulled out all the stops on this one," she noted as Commander Kelp himself stepped through the door, surveying the occupants skeptically.

"Fowl, what did I say about sitting and waiting for a team to pick you up?"

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I tried that approach."

The commander looked around the room once more - from Holly, who had still not let go of the shuttle's controls, to where Becquerel remained slumped against the wall in a _mesmer_-induced daze, to where Caltrop stood guard two feet away, to Mulch (who was still absorbed in picking stray rocks from his beard), and finally back to Artemis, who hadn't moved.

"D'Arvit!" the commander swore, before turning on his heel and exiting the craft. Everybody present knew that a serious conversation needed to be had with Kelp, but that was fine. Now was not the time.

The retrieval unit was the second LEP presence to board the shuttle. They were tasked with escorting Jones to a secure facility, where he would be given appropriate medical attention and held until the matter had been investigated. Of course a safe mind wipe had already been arranged. Holly signed the custody transfer form; Artemis simply watched them tug the _mesmerized_ human to his feet and lead him out into the crowd.

A moment later, they rounded a corner and were gone from sight.

-x-

It took the shuttle's other occupants nearly two hours to return to Police Plaza, accosted every several steps by specialists who insisted they had something of benefit to add to the situation. Finally, Holly began to outright snarl at any soul to venture within two feet of their little party. This effectively thinned the crowd, but did not dissipate it entirely.

In one memorable instance, an especially brave sprite in a paramedic's uniform jumped up from behind, flapped his wings twice to reach Artemis's height, and draped a shock blanket over the Mud Boy's shoulders. Artemis distastefully pulled it off with one hand.

Looking down at the blanket, his brow furrowed in dismay. "I probably could have used one of these seven years ago. Perhaps eight. I should file a complaint."

Holly shrugged, reaching to pluck it away. "We can write up a form later. Should probably check on the interns now - even if you don't need this, at least one of them will."

His hand twisted against hers for just a moment, fingertips brushing together.

Mulch loudly wondered if he'd managed to let out all the air back in the tunnel, or if there were still a few stubborn bubbles that would need to be expelled. The last of the "specialists" dropped back several paces, muttering in alarm. Holly cast a skeptical glance up at Artemis, who simply nodded and closed his fingers around hers.

"He's fine," the human mouthed. Holly sighed in relief and turned her gaze ahead once more, not letting go of his hand.

-x-

"You're alive!" cheered Foaly as the team filed into the boiler room. "Hey Fowl, may the fours be -"

Artemis didn't even wait for him to finish the greeting. "Goodbye, Foaly."

"Well, there's gratitude. You know I only left my vacation because I thought you were dead again."

"And it was much appreciated," Artemis responded. Hand still entangled in Holly's, he pulled her across the room to his computer, using his other hand to tap at the screen rapidly. "There, I bought you a new one. Same place, next weekend. Happy?"

Foaly frowned. "How did you know where - no, nevermind. I'm going now. This is me leaving." And with a final, indignant swish of his tail, he trotted from the room.

"Well, that was showy," commented Holly.

Artemis turned away from the computer. "I arranged it on the shuttle," he admitted. "All that was left to do was forward the confirmation email to him."

"So that's what you needed my phone for?"

"Not quite."

She waited, but Artemis still wasn't ready to explain.

-x-

Ten minutes later, Caltrop had initiated the automatic form sequence. LEPfoul's three interns had all officially been un-fired in light of their job performance under crisis. Without the boilers thrumming in the background, their office space was eerily quiet.

Holly had given the shock blanket to Dodo, who had snuggled into it and perched on the edge of the desk that housed the intern terminal. Two feet away, Sass had turned the accompanying chair upside-down and managed to balance upon it in a four-legged acrobatic feat. Mulch had not left yet, either, having flopped in the middle of the floor and neglected to stand back up. Caltrop had migrated towards the place where the boilers used to be, leaning against the wall - it was slightly warmer than the rest of the room, and his gill tanks bubbled happily. In the corner of the room, Artemis stood behind his desk chair, watching as the first of many forms began to fly through the program he had built. Occasionally he prompted Holly to tap the occasional key in order to speed the processing of difficult data. The elf had perched on the armrest of the human's chair. With one hand she adjusted the data input, while her other arm dangled over the side of the chair. She was reaching backwards just a little to meet him halfway, her fingers still clasped against his.

There was a lot of difficult data after this mission, and relatively little of it fit within the checkboxes and form lines of official LEP reports.

Finally, Caltrop spoke.

"So - um - Demia Carter's gone?"

"Yes."

"And our systems won't work because of the boilers, but we can't keep the boilers like this forever?"

"Yes."

"And Sass isn't fired any more?"

"No."

"And Dodo's not fired any more?"

"...No, she's not."

"And I'm not fired any more either?"

"For the last time, Chlorella, no!"

"Okay. But we're - like, us, as a team - we're okay, right? Like, we're gonna keep doing this kind of thing? I mean, somebody _died _this time and, well, I don't know about you guys but that's a lot more than I usually deal with because I may be an anarchist and a hacker but I -"

"_Caltrop,_" hissed Sass in a rare instance of tact.

"I thought you were kidding about the trolls," finished the water sprite, somewhat lamely.

The room fell silent again. Finally, Mulch stretched and sat up from his position on the floor, cracking his back a little as he did so.

"I hate to ask at a time like this, but Shrimp's got a point. What _are_ we going to do now?"

Artemis's computer beeped once with an incoming message, but he did not need to look at it to know what information it contained. The human took one deep breath, and tried to smile for the sake of his staff. _This is going to be a tricky one._

"Don't worry. I've got a plan."

-x-

_(End of Season One)_

-x-

**Author's Note: **

We're so sorry. So. Very. Sorry. We know how much you all loved Lucia.

On a more serious note, you didn't actually think we'd wait another month before posting the finale to the season (and conclusion to the cliffhanger), did you? We are planning to take a bit of a break before Season Two to tie up a couple of other projects we've got on the go. With any luck, those will pop up on this account fairly soon.

Thank you so much for reading and for staying with us - the response to this fic so far has absolutely blown us away! See you in Season Two!

-Winged and Freud


	9. 201: The Lucia Box

EPISODE 2.01: THE LUCIA CODE

_In the aftermath of a tragedy, LEPfoul takes drastic measures and Kelp's open-door policy comes back to haunt him. Again. _

-x-

It had been a long day, and Holly Short was itching for something to shoot. Perhaps this was why, when she rounded the corner in the hallway outside of Commander Kelp's office and nearly ran headlong into Artemis, her hand automatically drifted towards the Neutrino at her belt even as her feet skipped backwards to avoid a collision. The human raised one eyebrow; she lifted her hand, palm open. "It's a comfort thing. What are you doing up here?" A moment later, it clicked. "D'arvit, you already spoke with Kelp?"

"Breathe, Holly. It's all been settled, just like we discussed. Walk with me?" Artemis jerked his head to the side, gesturing to the hallway behind her as he stepped to the side and continued on his way.

"No, see, we discussed talking to Trouble together." Despite her reservations, the elf turned on her heel to keep pace with him. For every two steps of Artemis's, she had to take three; all the same, the human was the one who had to quicken pace to keep up.

Artemis shook his head. "I excluded you only because you and the Commander are close friends. As necessary as the Box is, he's probably not going to like what it does. This way, you can claim I devised it alone. It really doesn't matter if he's angry with me, since we were hardly going to be friends in the first place."

"What are you up to?" Pausing now to wait for the elevator to arrive, Holly pivoted to face him, alarm in her face. "You don't go out of your way to make my life easier. Ever. What aren't you telling me?"

"Don't look at me like that - you know the Lucia Code won't hurt anybody. Do the interns have the rest of the office under control?"

Holly nodded. "When I left, they were packing the last of the equipment. We're really getting away with this, then?"

Artemis stepped over the threshold into the lift, finally exhaling. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me, Captain Short."

Holly rolled her eyes as she followed him, jamming a thumb into the button for building's ground floor. "Listen, do you hear that? It's the story of my life."

-x-

Caltrop Chlorella couldn't stop looking over his shoulder.

For years, the canary named Lucia had terrorized the water sprite. He'd become accustomed to the stabs of terror that accompanied her battle cries, become expert at predicting her erratic movements, and developed excellent duck and cover response times at the faintest glimpse of yellow pinwheeling overhead. And now, just like that, she was gone.

He didn't trust the silence in the slightest.

It probably didn't help that one of his fellow interns, a young centaur with lime-coloured hair and a lifelong determination to prove that her nickname of "Sass" was an apt one, had recently discovered a knack for Lucia mimicry.

From two feet behind him, Sass screeched. Caltrop automatically hit the deck, lacing his hands behind the back of his head to protect his gill tubes. The centaur glanced at the computer terminal on the desk, reading the clock with a satisfied flick of her tail. "Zero point four seconds. New record, Shrimp!"

Dodo Feldspar, the newest addition to the team, crinkled her nose as her head popped up from behind the desk. There was a red shock blanket tied around her neck like a cape, and she straightened the knot smartly as she spoke. "That was a great bird impression, but I'm turning the computer off now." With that established, the dwarf vanished once more behind the desk to resume rummaging through wires, blanket billowing behind her. The room around them was already mostly bare; the intern terminal was the last piece of office equipment that needed to be transported to their new location. They were supposed to have an extra pair of hands to help with the move, but Mulch Diggums had made a show of having something important to attend the moment he was asked to pick up a roll of packing tape. As a result, the move was running a little behind schedule.

"She's no fun.," whined the centaur, nodding her head towards Dodo, "I think I liked this job better before she got transferred in." Caltrop snorted, causing a flare of bubbles to pulse through the tanks that encircled his gills.

"You - glub - never showed up before!"

Sass grinned. "Exactly. I bet Dodo's a real stickler for punctuality."

"I can still hear you!" grumbled the dwarf, wrestling with the nest of wires behind the computer. One last pull, and the screen on the desk went dark.

"So, that'd be a yes, then?"

-x-

_Nobody's talking to me because they have no idea what to do with me,_ Becquerel Jones thought as he stared blankly at the wall ahead. _Demia's parents will never know what happened to her, and I have no idea what's going to happen to me._

He had woken up alone in a sparsely furnished holding room, a pair of cuffs binding his wrists together. Becquerel privately considered that to be overkill. After all, he had seen enough police procedurals on television to identify the room around him. If he were in the middle of a police station, Bec knew better than to run blind. His memories of the trip back through the underground city were vague, flashbulbs and still images as opposed to a coherent flow. The inscrutable look on Fowl's face as the squad had led him from the shuttle - the push and pull of a crowd of people who looked nothing like humans - voices speaking in a language he did not understand. His head wound had been healed by a medic with sympathy in her eyes and a uniform the colour of the sky (_so that's what magic looks like_, he had thought as a cascade of blue sparks clouded his vision, spun haywire chaotic like a sandstorm through his mind), but Bec's knuckles were still scraped raw from where he had punched Fowl. Nobody had offered to heal those injuries, and he had not asked; as he interlaced his fingers against the surface of the table, Bec cringed. It hurt.

_I know it's scary, but -_

The urge to throw up had passed, though, so at least he could proceed under the assumption that he was no longer concussed. Out of habit, the teenager reached for the pocket where he kept his cell phone at all times. For just a moment, he'd forgotten - Demia had steadier hands, she'd been the one to hold the light in the caves. She'd claimed to know what she was doing, and so he'd allowed her to navigate. He could still hear the squeak of her rubber shoes against the dry earth, the quiet pulse of her breathing, the growls -

- _in adventures and fairy tales, you have to be brave -_

Part of him knew that he should be taking advantage of this quiet moment to plan. Planning, though, had never been a strong suit of his. He tinkered, he engineered, he worked with his hands. He had always been awful at following through. Besides, it didn't seem to matter much. Sooner or later, the LEP would make a decision. Would he be charged as a criminal? Or would they wipe all memory of Demia from his mind, the way they had erased him from hers? Bec leaned his head back against the wall, shutting his eyes.

When she had forgotten him, he'd been able to work his way backwards. It had been difficult work, laying a scaffolding upon the foundation of the past to rebuild a relationship with his best friend. Still, though, it had been possible. If he forgot her now, though, she would be gone forever. If he forgot her now -

_- I'm smaller, so I'll go first._

If he forgot her now, she really would die.

Still, the tears did not come.

-x-

Honkard D. Tweedir was beginning to worry: usually Fowl was quite prompt about returning his messages, yet - despite having been sent, just that afternoon, the transcript of a delightful old text - it had been several hours since the human had checked in. So it was that, when the Haven Library Archives began the arduous process of locking up for the night, Tweedir excused himself and decided to check in at Police Plaza. He had a bad feeling about this. If anybody else had been ignoring his messages, he might not have been quite so concerned; the gnome understood completely that certain individuals were simply too busy to check their inbox on a regular basis and, if they found the time to read his messages, might not find themselves obligated to respond. It could not be denied, however, that his human contact had a particular knack for finding trouble.

As a result, when Tweedir entered Police Plaza and discovered it in a state that he would later refer to as "an exceptional tizzy," he was only moderately surprised to discover - after several moments of asking around - who was at the center of the disaster. He'd not yet experienced it firsthand, of course, but all the literature did state that Artemis Fowl II tended to have that effect on situations.

Of course, that was as far as his investigation went. It turned out that the secretary at the front desk was "exceptionally obtuse" (as he would later refer to her) and seemed almost chronically determined to prevent him from making any legitimate progress in tracking down the human.

"Which one?" she'd asked as she drummed her fingernails against the worn surface of the desk. "Because let me tell you, this whole situation is an absolute nightmare!"

Tweedir coughed delicately. "Pardon me, but am I to understand that there is another human belowground besides Artemis Fowl the Second?"

The sprite pursed her lips in a disapproving manner. "Yes, well. Unfortunately -"

"Hey, Betty!" called a loud voice from the door just behind the secretary's desk. When Tweedir raised his eyes, he was astonished to see a human girl hunched over in the doorway.

The secretary sighed heavily and spun around on her chair. "Botti," she corrected.

The human flushed. "Sorry," she said, apologizing in English.

Tweedir stepped around the front desk, raising a hand in welcome. "Pardon me, miss," he said, matching her language.

His plan was to entreat the human girl to speak with him on the events that had led her to Haven City. Yet, before he could say another word, she had reached out and pumped his hand quite vigorously. Tweedir was taken aback, having expected the girl to lay her palm atop his so he might bow and express how enchanted he was to meet her. That was, after all, the way such meetings were described in all the literature on humans he had ever studied.

"Oh, thank goodness, somebody who's actually willing to talk to me. You know, I think most of the people around here are half-hoping that if they ignore me, I'll go away." The girl shook her head sadly, drawing her hand back to her side. "I'm Juliet."

Tweedir straightened, puffing out his chest a little in pride. "And I would be Professor Honkard D. Tweedir, K.H., W.M.M."

Juliet tilted her head. "I see. Are you busy right now?"

"Pardon?"

"Oh, fantastic. See, I came down here with a retrieval team. Ran into them at the shuttleport and Foaly convinced them to take me belowground with them, but they scattered the moment we arrived." Juliet pursed her lips. "I need to track down where LEPfoul went - actually, I know where they went. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to leave the building without an escort. Something about not wanting another human wandering around the city. So, are you up for a walk?"

"You know where LEPfoul is? They've left the premises completely, I'm afraid."

Juliet shrugged. "I've had a tracker stuck to Artemis's shoe since we left the manor this morning. The centaur's bugs didn't seem to kill it, so yeah, I do."

"Excellent! Outstanding! Well done!" Tweedir extended his arm, beaming. "I do believe, Miss Juliet, that you have found yourself an escort!"

The girl took a small step backwards, not accepting the proffered limb as she turned towards the doorway. "Lucky me."

-x-

Skeptical as Holly had initially been when Artemis proposed that LEPfoul move their operations out of Police Plaza, she couldn't help but slug the Mud Boy on the arm in approval when she saw the new accommodations he'd managed to arrange for their department. For once, all of LEPfoul was in unanimous agreement about something: their new office was definitely better than a boiler room.

"You've had nearly five months to move out of my apartment and haven't been able to find a place, but it only took you two phone calls to put this together?" asked the elf, raising both eyebrows. Artemis, rubbing at his sleeve to try to restore blood flow to his lower arm, simply shrugged. It had taken him years to figure out, but somewhere along the line the human had learned that some questions were just not meant to be answered.

They were not far from Police Plaza, yet somehow the interns still managed to get lost on their way over. When they finally arrived (with the last boxes of office supplies in tow), Caltrop wasted no time in unboxing a thick-tipped felt marker and using it to scrawl the words "The Foul Team" over the front doorway.

The longest wall of the office looked down upon a busy street. One-way glass allowed the office's occupants to peer out at the bustling metropolis below and enjoy the lighting that illuminated the city streets while remaining shielded from invasive eyes. The opposite wall of the building was pressed directly against one of the many rock faces that ran through the city, providing structural integrity as well as a source of warmth that would prove quite useful in keeping heating costs down.

As for the office itself, a large and mostly rectangular open floor gave them plenty of room to set up desks and computers. The old boiler room had only provided them with space for a single intern terminal; in their new setting, Dodo and Sass immediately fell to bickering over who would be allowed to set up their workstation closest to the door. The dwarf thought it would be nice to set up a small aquarium or some kind of plant display upon her desk to welcome visitors, while the centaur figured that being closer to the entrance would make it easier to see new interns coming from a distance (allowing her to arrange to be elsewhere by the time they actually arrived).

Their argument was interrupted as Holly, rummaging through the boxes the interns had carried with them, made a horrifying discovery. "We stole the Plaza's coffee pot?"

Caltrop raised one hand. "W-won't we need it more than they will?" he suggested feebly, whisking the machine away to begin the process of setting it up.

This was the scene Juliet and Tweedir encountered by the time they finally made their way to the LEPfoul offices:

In the corner farthest from the door and window, Artemis sat at a computer terminal, guiding various systems as they crept their way towards functionality. Holly sat on the edge of his desk, her head bowed in to allow them to converse in quiet whispers. Caltrop had set up shop along the opposite wall, proudly watching his pilfered machine grind sim coffee beans to the perfect consistency. Occasionally he paused to check the coarseness of the grind against a chart he'd pulled up on a tablet, making minute adjustments to the machine. Dodo had won the fight to set up closest to the door, though Sass had arranged her desk opposite the dwarf's. As though in defiance against Dodo's meticulously neat workstation, Sass had already managed to make her desk appear as though a hurricane had bowled it over.

In short, LEPfoul was productive and at peace. There was no way it could last.

The moment Juliet and Tweedir stepped together over the threshold into the office, the coffee machine immediately began to hiss and yowl like a cat shoved unceremoniously into a burlap sack. Caltrop scurried backwards away from the table, sending coffee grounds scattering over the floor. Before Juliet could open her mouth to shout over the blare, she was cut off by several people at once.

"Chlorella, what did you _do_?" snapped Holly, reaching for her gun as she hopped fluidly down from the desk and pivoted to face the mechanical threat.

"We were fine thirty seconds ago! You jinxed it!" Dodo yelped, turning to Juliet with her hands clamped over her ears.

"I - I didn't do anything! Maybe it doesn't like being around humans?" suggested Caltrop. Irritated bubbles rose rapidly in his gill tanks as he took another step away from the machine. "Can we - glub! - just shut it up already?"

Juliet took a cautious step back over the threshold. "Artemis is human and he's been here all afternoon!" she protested. Behind her, Tweedir shuffled his feet a little. This was not an argument he wanted to get in the middle of.

"Nah, we're still not a hundred percent sure he isn't part vampire," quipped Sass, raising her voice to ensure it carried over the din.

Artemis lifted his head. _"I heard that!"_

Perhaps, given an extra moment, he would have sprouted a more witty comeback.

What happened instead was an explosion. With a magnificent screech and a plume of steam that held a cloud of coffee grinds aloft for a moment in a perfect mushroom cloud formation, the coffee machine decided to exit this mortal coil.

It was spectacular.

Caltrop wailed, Artemis and Dodo both ducked down beneath their respective desks for protection, Sass cheered, Juliet skipped to the side to avoid an errant piece of shrapnel, Tweedir retreated back behind the doorframe, and Holly shot the smoking crater in the table top.

And then shot it twice more for good measure.

-x-

Morning arrived much too early for the personnel of Police Plaza that Saturday. Kelp was on his third cup of sim-coffee by the time he arrived at the office, having slept no more than two hours. At least, he reflected, the worst of the crisis had been dealt with the previous night. Today would be slower and a good deal less chaotic.

Or so Kelp believed until he stepped through the double doors to see fairies literally running to and fro down the halls.

"Please tell me," Kelp sighed, pausing at the secretary's desk, "that Fowl did not crash another shuttle."

"No sir," the sprite dutifully replied. "The computer system crashed in the administration wing less than an hour ago. They're still trying to get everything back online."

Kelp stilled, a shiver of apprehension running down his back. In his mind's eye, he could still see it clearly: the box filled with papers that Fowl had dropped onto his desk less than twenty-four hours ago. _"What's in the box?"_ he had asked. And what had Fowl replied?

"_An incentive. I realize that authorizing the relocation of LEPfoul will be a controversial decision. Have administration enter these forms into the main system; within two days, the rest of the building will be begging you to make us move off-premises." _

Kelp struggled to control himself. "And how long will it take for systems to run again?"

The secretary shrugged. "Depends on what caused the problem. So far, nobody knows."

Kelp sighed, took one last swig of his coffee, and slammed the empty cup down on the counter. "Botti, have someone refill this for me. I'll be in admin."

-x-

Foaly trotted over, wringing his hands desperately. "One moment," he brayed, pushing aside the techie hovering over the nearest computer.

Kelp raised his refilled mug and took a sip, grimacing at the lackluster taste. He turned back to the aide. "You got this from the basement break room?"

"Yessir."

He frowned and tasted the brew again. For one horrid instant, Kelp wondered if the sudden decline in the taste of the sim coffee could also be the fault of LEPfoul - and then he dismissed the idea. Clearly the stress of such a long night followed by the system failure this morning had made him paranoid.

"Almost got it," Foaly mumbled, plugging in one last wire before pausing to crack his knuckles. "Here goes nothing." With one finger, he delicately pressed the start-up key before pulling away and watching the screen intently.

The entire room held their breath. For half a minute, the computer did nothing; then, a soft whirring sounded from the terminal as the system began to turn itself on. A spinning disk appeared above a blue bar that gradually stretched the length of the screen.

Foaly beamed and turned to Kelp. "And once again, the true genius of the LEP saves the day."

The moment the bar touched the opposite end of the screen, a hair-raising _screeeeeeeeech_ blasted from every speaker in the building. Simultaneously, every single member of the LEP engaged in evasive action to avoid the imminent canary attack.

To understand exactly how much chaos those two words - "evasive action" - entailed, it is necessary to fully comprehend the impact that Lucia's short reign of terror had left upon Police Plaza. In the five months since the holy terror of a bird had first opened her beak to screech through those corridors, the canary had made herself into something of a legend. Not one of those offbeat "alligators in the sewers" kind of urban legends, either. No, Lucia evoked the sort of tale that involved missing college students, horrific monster attacks, and well-intentioned police officers that never again saw the light of day.

And those were only the true stories. The myths were even worse.

Five months was not enough time to practice evasive Lucia actions. A lifetime would not have been long enough. As the speakers blared, the sound rang crystal-clear through every single hallway. It came from everywhere at once, and lingered. It echoed.

It was majestic.

In accounting, a group of gnomes barricaded themselves down one hallway, overturning desks and tables with all the precision of a military squad. Botti, having just settled once more in her seat at the front desk, squeaked and dove for cover. A pair of pixies dressed in matching fluorescent pink gave identical piercing screams as they both pivoted in opposite directions, colliding heads with enough force to concuss them both for several moments before their magic kicked in and healed each other. In the boiler room that had once belonged to LEPfoul, a technician in the middle of repairing the dismantled boilers yelped and dove for the nearest supply closet for cover. The lock stuck, and he spent the next four hours pounding on the door for help.

Somewhere, a fire alarm began to blare. Moments later, just as the last ringing tones of the bird's screech died out, the building's sprinklers came on. These sprinklers, it must be noted, used the exact same technology as fire-fighting blaster shells - half a gallon of water blasted upon the perceived flames, instead of poured.

The effect was dramatic, to say the least.

A sodden Kelp found himself squished in a corner between Foaly and a knot of anxious interns. "But the bird's _dead_!" he protested weakly.

Foaly shuddered, shedding a sheet of water. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he said. "But this was Fowl's doing, rest assured."

The commander gave him a sour look, though the impact of it was much lessened by the fact that he currently looked more like a half-drowned cat than like a police commander. "You _would_ say that."

Foaly huffed. "Sure, blame the centaur."

-x-

Had Sass shown up on time to the office on any other day, it would have been cause for celebration. As things were, no other member of LEPfoul had gotten around to leaving the night before, too busy with the set-up and organization of their new workspace. Even Juliet had stayed belowground, setting herself to the task of improving the office's security. She'd left the room about an hour ago to "negotiate" with the downstairs neighbours. Staffed primarily by a group of young elves who had met in business school and promptly decided they could revolutionize the advertising industry, the agency downstairs had (unfortunately for everybody involved) not kept the entrance to their office completely clear, electing instead to block it with a giant inflatable strawberry. Nobody quite knew what this was supposed to advertise; Juliet promptly declared that she didn't care, and set off to go make them take it down.

This was one of only several small dramas that had taken place that morning. As a result, no one had noticed Sass disappear. Yet, somehow, all were made aware of her triumphant return.

"I come bearing gifts!" Sass brayed loudly, holding aloft a rectangular metal box that looked similar to a human radio. She did a round of the office, pretending to admire the changes that had been made since she'd left while actually doing her best to arouse curiosity. As no one else had energy to spare, the attempt was less than successful.

Slumped in a wheely chair in the corner of the room, it was Caltrop who finally gave in. "What _is_ it?"

"Aha!" Sass exclaimed. "I am so very glad you asked. I present Uncle Foaly 2.0!"

Holly had been attempting to nap with her head down on her new desk. At Sass's words, she sat up, back rod-straight. "Foaly _what?"_

"It's his Artificial Intelligence," continued Sass, setting to work fiddling with a set of wires that still dangled from an outlet on one of the walls. "Or one of them, anyway. He's got them everywhere now. I like the version in his house the best - his nav-bot system has been super smug ever since he got trapped in a time-stop with a group of goblins."

This remark was met by a horrified silence as everyone imagined multiple AIs all based on Foaly's personality, and contemplated the disaster that would occur should they ever collaborate. Oblivious, Sass hooked the last wire up, tapped the box twice, and twisted a knob that was only there for decoration.

The AI came to life. "Actually," it began with a voice eerily similar to Foaly's own, "There's totally only one of me. Portable, y'know. Foaly and I decided it was time I took a road trip, and I convinced dear Sass to give me a lift!"

Holly heaved a sigh of relief. "So there's only one of you?"

"Wait," interrupted Dodo. "You played prison warden for a bunch of goblins, yet Foaly feels you're needed here? _What does that say about us?_"

"Well, I've also babysat his kids. And they're almost worse than the goblins!" If the AI had possessed a spine, a shudder would have run down it. "But yup - here I am! All yours, mates!"

"That doesn't answer my question," objected the dwarf.

Caltrop nudged her in the side. "Maybe we don't wanna know the answer," he glubbed, downtrodden.

Sass cast an anxious glance around the room. "How come Fowl's not making faces at me? I'd have thought he'd be _so _not okay with me bringing an AI in here."

Caltrop jammed a thumb over his shoulder. Two hours ago, LEPfoul's human consultant had started to run a complete stress test on the department's new databases. In the ten minutes the program had taken to compile the results, the mental strain and physical exertion of the previous day and a half had caught up with him; the next time anybody looked over to check on Artemis, the human had fallen asleep on his desk. Given the situation, nobody was quite brave enough to wake him.

Until now.

Sass stamped a foot, thinking for a moment before cupping her hands around her mouth and unleashing her best Lucia _screech_. Even though Caltrop had seen it coming, he still dropped to his knees to seek cover behind his desk. The AI cringed, running the sound clip through the recent Police Plaza security footage. "Oh," it said. "That makes sense, now. That's where you got the bird call for the Lucia box!"

"No, clearly we cloned the bird and brought her back from the dead," snapped a now-awake Artemis in his most sarcastic tone, lifting his head from his desk. Holly winced.

"Oh, no worries - I won't tell anybody. Dudes, a confession: I am almost ashamed to admit this but I've totally been arrested before," confided the AI. "So your secret's safe with me. I'm cool like that!"

It was unclear which secret he was referring to - the box or the clone. Given present company, neither Holly nor Artemis intended to press.

"You're an AI," noted Artemis, changing the topic. "What kind of laws even govern -"

Dodo cut him off. "Wait a moment. Show of hands: who here doesn't have a criminal record?"

The only hand that raised belonged to the only human in the room. "Technically, I've never been arrested -" Artemis began, before catching the look on Holly's face and reluctantly drawing his arm back down to his side.

"Nobody?" asked Dodo, her gaze darting around the room. "Holly?"

The elf, her arms folded, shot another glare at Artemis. "Well, it wasn't _my_ fault. And I don't see your hand up either, Feldspar."

Dodo had gone pink, clearly regretting even asking the question. "I was young," she said primly before sitting back down at her desk and returning swiftly to her work.

-x-

The individuals in charge of such matters had elected to wait the customary forty-eight hours before holding a memorial for Demia. This was long enough for there to be debate about the appropriateness of such a ceremony; given the situation surrounding the girl's death, the final verdict had been unanimous.

The customary candle had been lit, though the flame itself did not seem to be moving. Glowing at the tip, the only testament to the passage of time was the faint movement of the wick as it curled in against itself like a mimosa leaf reacting against the pressure of a fingertip, retreating slowly in the hopes of sustaining life for a moment or two longer.

It was a testament to the silence in the room that the flame did not waver. In a traditional recycling ceremony, words would be spoken. Loved ones would recite passages from the Book and deliver epitaphs, and friends would share memories to begin the healing process. There would be tears, but also laughter; above all else, there would be the start of closure. Public ceremonies were an occasion for more decorum: officials would show up in uniform and scripted verses would be delivered. Even then, it was often joked that a good life was one lived in such a way that somebody would accidentally knock the candle from the table before it had a chance to burn down.

Demia Carter had not quite been a friend to the People. Not quite an enemy, but not quite a friend. Her funeral was silent and still, and the flame never once threatened to go out.

-x-

Artemis only realized he'd caught Holly's hand in his own when he felt her fingers slip from his after the ceremony. He turned back and caught the direction of her gaze, which followed Becquerel Jones as his guards escorted the boy back to his holding cell.

"The closure will help," Artemis said softly.

"The mindwipe will help," Holly corrected, tearing her eyes away to look up to Artemis's face. Then she blinked and glanced down again.

He frowned. For once, the human found it impossible to read his best friend's face. "What are you thinking, Holly?"

The question was asked gently, and so the elf responded honestly. "The last time I was at one of these ceremonies, it was yours. After the Crash. We found out later that Mulch had rigged the candle ahead of time - when it hit the halfway point, it began blowing so much smoke that we had to evacuate two city blocks. Nothing dangerous to breathe, of course. Just impossible to see through." She exhaled, straightening her posture to come a little closer to being on eye-level with him. "He thought you'd have appreciated the gesture."

Artemis swallowed hard, bowing his head. "I'll have to tell him he was correct in that assessment."

Together they wandered a little bit further down the street, keeping pace with an ease that came from months of practice. For a while neither of them could find words, and so they walked in silence. It was only when they turned onto a quieter street away from the push and pull of the crowd that Artemis finally opened his mouth once more. "Do you remember one of the first things you ever said to me?"

Holly furrowed her brow. Now was not the time to go at picking old scars, and so her reprimand lacked real venom. "It's hazy from the tranquilizer, actually."

"You told me that I had no idea what I was dealing with. Nothing could have been further from the truth, yet you warned me all the same. Demia Carter entered into this situation blind, Holly. If we had been given the freedom to treat her differently when we first crossed paths, perhaps -" Artemis cut himself off, shaking his head sharply once. "It doesn't matter. This will not happen again. No more funerals."

"If you ever leave me in a position where I'm helpless to act in a crisis again, this will happen again," said the elf, extending her hand to tap four times against the inside of his wrist. "I'll strangle you myself if you get out of it in one piece. You don't ever leave me to man the rescue vehicle. Understood?"

He tapped twice in return against the palm of her hand. "Perfectly."

Their arms dropped once more. Another silent moment passed; they walked another few paces.

Artemis would later acknowledge that he probably should have let the subject go. With that same mild tone, however, he could not resist one last comment on the situation. "If our positions had been reversed, after everything we've been through together, you would be insulted if I doubted your ability to handle yourself in a crisis."

Holly immediately stopped walking, shaking her head in vigorous disagreement. Artemis heeled beside her, turning to wait for an answer. To Holly's credit, it only took her a couple of seconds to articulate why he was wrong.

"It's not about that," she said. "Not the same comparison at all. I know what you're capable of in a crisis, and it's not about that."

"Then, what is it about?"

She lifted her mismatched eyes, meeting his gaze. "When fairies are injured, we heal. When humans get hurt, you bruise."

Up until that moment, Artemis had nearly forgotten about the mark on his cheek. Overnight, the spot where Becquerel Jones punched him had turned a florid shade of purple, swollen green around the edges. He reached up to prod it, and winced. Holly shook her head in exasperation, gesturing to him; knowing better than to fight her, Artemis bowed his head enough to let her reach. This time, he held still and allowed her fingertips to brush against the wound.

"Heal," the elf whispered. Her magic immediately and effortlessly complied.

"Thank you," the human said quietly, straightening once more. He resisted the urge to touch the side of his face to verify that the bruise was gone, trusting her enough to know that she had taken care of it completely.

The rest of the walk back to the new LEPfoul office was silent.

-x-

"Have you _any idea_ what your human did?"

The worst part of this conversation was the fact that this was not the first time, in recent months, that Holly had been asked that question. By now, her response was automatic: "He's not _my _human!" And then, a moment later, she remembered to add, "What did he do?"

She was playing dumb. While Artemis had taken the liberty of delivering the Lucia box to Kelp on his own, Holly had actually contributed to the plan: the system crash may have been of Artemis's design, but the Lucia screech had been entirely her idea. She'd seen firsthand the havoc that bird could wreak upon unprepared interns. This was not going to stop her from letting him take all the credit, so long as it prevented Kelp from learning the extent of her involvement.

And so far, it seemed that he had no idea. "The entire admin system, Holly. _The entire system._ Nothing critical went down but everything and anything involving paperwork -" He paused to take a deep breath.

"Well, you did originally hire him to do the paperwork," Holly cut in mildly.

"This isn't funny," Kelp growled. "I had to yell at people about paperwork. Me. Yelling at people about paperwork!"

Holly shook her head, an amused smile tugging at her lips. "Never thought we'd see the day."

"And that isn't even the worst of it. Holly, that screeching won't _stop._ If it were on a regular cycle, we could at least be prepared but it's completely random. I have never seen more fairies walking around with nervous twitches." He paused. "We're supposed to be a police force, d'arvit!"

Holly hummed in sympathy, doing her best not to laugh at the memory of the interns lined up to audition for the role of Lucia. They'd expected to have to pitch-shift the loudest one to make it match the bird's tones; instead, Sass had opened her mouth and blown them all away. "How's Jones?" she asked, changing the topic before Kelp blew a gasket.

Kelp sighed, rubbing his face. "We've administered the mindwipe on Jones and his family. I have a team at the residence cleaning up any loose ends as we speak. When the boy wakes up, the last few month's escapades will have been replaced by an extended trip to Stanford."

"Stanford?" Holly repeated.

"Human university," he clarified. "Even had the centaur hack into their systems and give the kid a doctorate. Should keep him busy for a while. LEPfoul's officially hands-off the entire situation, by the way. We're taking it from here." A screech sounded in the background of the call. Kelp jerked and then scowled. "You hear that?"

Holly tried to keep a straight face. "Loud and clear, Commander."

And then it happened again. Louder, this time. Closer. Kelp paled. "That's not coming from the speakers. Where is that sound coming from?" Another moment passed, and another screech rang out. _"Where is - Why is it louder?"_

"Trouble?" asked Holly, finally showing genuine concern.

Kelp's voice dropped. "D'arvit. _D'arvit._ She's back. She can't be back! That's impossible!" And then again, his voice rising in pitch with panic, _"She's back!"_

Perhaps if Kelp had not been so committed to his open-door office policy, the imminent attack could have been avoided. As it was, the bird faced no resistance. A streak of yellow shot across the screen of the camera. The last thing Holly saw before the connection cut was a sideways still of Kelp, arms held defensively in front of his face. Another garbled screech cut across the line. And then the feed went dark.

-x-

"You didn't _actually _smuggle the bird back out of the tunnel somehow, did you?"

Artemis raised both eyebrows in surprise. Holly sighed.

"I felt the need to check."

"Fowl protocol. Understood."

-x-

Ten minutes later the entire team - with the addition of Juliet, who was perched proudly atop a confiscated inflatable giant strawberry - had gathered in a rough semicircle in the middle of the office around a projector screen. Artemis had removed a simple USB drive from the heel of his loafer and plugged it into the LEPfoul mainframe, ignoring Juliet's slightly sheepish apologies for using said flashdrive as the host for a tracker.

"I need to confess that I've lied to you all," Artemis began, tapping the screen to open a spreadsheet document.

Holly snapped. "You lied to me about the bird?"

"No, I lied to you about something else." He seemed moderately offended that she'd even asked.

"I'm absolutely floored by this turn of events," muttered Sass under her breath, swishing her tail across the tile floor. Rather than taking a seat, she had simply folded her legs beneath her and lay down. Caltrop, leaning uneasily against her side, elbowed the centaur in the ribs and received a prod to the gill tubes for his trouble. Without missing a beat, Dodo reached over and smoothly readjusted the devices before the water sprite could begin to choke; flushing blue, Caltrop mumbled his thanks.

Artemis made a point of ignoring the interns as he prodded the screen again. A list appeared suspended in the air before him - names, addresses, ages, and other assorted information spread out in neat columns and rows. He began to scroll through, just slowly enough to allow the others to skim the information: equal numbers male and female, locations scattered all over the globe and names from all cultures, no age over twenty, and no IQ listed below 160. With a flick of his finger, he returned to the top of the list. "When I said I needed to identify Changelings on a case by case basis, I lied. I've actually kept tabs on close to two hundred individuals for years now." He glanced across the table to Holly, furrowing his brow. "Upon our encounter with Minerva Paradizo and the subsequent return from Hybras, I compiled this list and have kept it relatively up to date ever since. The Crash did damage my systems, but fortunately I did not have this list entered into any computer." He paused. "I'd simply memorized it. As relevant situations came up, I pretended to be hearing about each individual Changeling for the first time."

He did not need to say that this had been a risky enough maneuver - the information had, at one point, come extremely close to being lost altogether. Across the room Holly opened her mouth as though to protest, and then reconsidered. When she spoke, it was cautiously. "And you didn't mention this earlier because...?"

"Because I know how the LEP responds to threats. I've taken care to keep this data offline for exactly that reason: Foaly and I have built systems that are impervious to outside intrusion, but we have access to so many of each other's files that it would only be a matter of time until he found this. And if the centaur became aware of this information, he'd have to report it to his superiors. In that scenario, they would be bound to act upon it. Unfortunately, the worst thing we could possibly do at this point in time is make one hundred and eighty-one very intelligent potential enemies." Artemis frowned. "I've believed for years that human children are becoming smarter. What we've experienced over the last several months, however, should have been statistically impossible. After my initial meeting with Demia Carter, I asked Minerva Paradizo for her input on the matter. She returned to me several days later with a list similar to mine - in fact, approximately 86% of the names overlapped. Even if children are becoming more intelligent, we should not have found this many anomalies. Independently, we verified each other's conclusions: the Changeling phenomenon, as we've been referring to it, is not an isolated series of events. We're looking at a situation on a global scale."

"Wait. I knew you'd contacted her, but I wasn't aware that you and Minerva are actually on friendly terms," interrupted Holly. The interns may have been sitting in rapt attention, but she'd been present at a few too many Fowl explanations to be awed. "When did this happen, and does this mean we're allowed to talk about her again?"

Artemis quirked an eyebrow. "Holly, you know exactly what happened: I had a very long six months and gained a sense of perspective." Brushing the question aside, he continued, "The point I'm trying to make is that we need to be here. I'm coming forward with this list now because we are no longer attached to Police Plaza's mainframe. It's risky to bring this information online, but after what happened to Demia Carter, we have no choice. Simply knowing these individuals exist is not enough. They all need to be monitored in case they become aware of the existence of the People and, if they do attain that information, action needs to be taken to prevent them from instigating a crisis." He lifted his head to address the rest of the department. "Holly and I have seen firsthand - it only takes one mishandled situation to change everything."

"That's why we left Police Plaza?" asked Caltrop, rocking forward a little bit as though it would help him hear with more accuracy. "It had nothing to do with the boilers after all?"

Artemis nodded. "Exactly. We can no longer afford to deal with the Changeling situation on a case-by-case basis - we need to be more coordinated. We have the people and the resources to make this the priority for our department. Any objections?"

Holly swore under her breath. "If even one of these kids steps over a line, the consequences -" she began, but could not bring herself to finish the sentence. Artemis nodded.

"That's why we're here," he reassured her, for a moment ignoring the rest of the room completely. He spoke earnestly and studied her face intently, finally lowering his hand from the screen; behind him, the names still hung suspended in the air. "It won't happen. We won't let it."

-x-

The last remnants of a patchwork dream were fading when Becquerel woke. He was stretched out on his stomach, one hand curled beneath the pillow while the other arm hung loosely over the edge of the mattress. Caught between waking and sleeping, there was one disorienting moment when Bec could not remember where he was - then his eyes flickered open and he saw the dark green pillowcase. _Of course, my bed. Where else would I be? _

It wasn't until he lifted his head that Bec realized the pillow beneath him was wet. He reached his arm up to touch his cheek and realized, groggily, that he must have been crying in his sleep. The teenager closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember what on earth he'd been dreaming of. It was impossible to recall, and he rubbed at his eyes furiously with the side of his hand, blinking hard. The glow of the alarm clock on his bedside table was reassuring, familiar, as it always was. Shuddering, Bec exhaled and sank back into his pillow.

_Makes sense that I can't remember. Just a dream. Must've been some dream, though it's probably for the best that I've got no idea what it was about._

He shifted, trying to burrow once more into the cocoon of his blankets. It was no good - he couldn't get comfortable. Grumbling a little to himself, Bec reached to flip his pillow over, hitting it a few times for good measure. Finally laying back down, the teenager shut his eyes once again.

Within moments, he had fallen back asleep. This time, he did not wake until morning.

-x-

**Author's Note: **

Like the majestic bird, we're back! After a stressful few weeks of final papers, presentations, and exams, the semester has come to an end and the two of us are back to Foul Team. Hurrah! - Winged

If you're curious, S2 of Foul Team is going to look a lot like S1 in format: seven episodes and various webisodes, telling a story that plays into a larger three-season arc. There's a lot of exposition in this episode, but we tried to lay out the foundations for how LEPfoul is going to function through the next season. Whee, changes! Also, I know we promised we'd be posting other things on this account, but unfortunately that other project ballooned into something entirely unrelated that'll take us a lot longer than a couple of weeks to finish - and so, we're back on LEPfoul duty! - Freud

No, seriously, that other project's scenes multiplied like interns. - Winged

And, as I was saying before Winged interrupted me, thank you so much for reading and staying with us! We hope you'll enjoy where this story is going to go! - Freud


	10. 202: Slender Who?

EPISODE 2.02: SLENDER WHO?

_The team learns that Artemis is the source of the Slenderman mythos when a new Changeling begins to piece things together. _

-x-

**Author's Note:** As you may have guessed from the title, this episode talks about Slenderman. Hopefully by now you've got an idea of our sense of humor, and we're keeping in that spirit - however, if you are seriously squicked by Slendy, just scroll through to the bottom and we'll summarize the events of this episode in an A/N at the end for you!

-x-

He still hadn't stopped.

When Holly had walked into the kitchen that morning to discover that Artemis had entirely disassembled the dishwasher only to put it back together in a way that he claimed would be forty percent more efficient, she had assumed it was an isolated incident - nervous energy, perhaps. Next, he had disappeared into the bathroom to repair a leaky faucet; by the time he emerged, her entire plumbing system had been upgraded. Slightly worried, Holly had retreated into the living room only to discover that, at some point, Artemis had also found the time to reorganize her digital library.

It had officially gone too far.

Now it was the middle of the afternoon, Artemis still hadn't stopped, and Holly was seriously concerned. He'd pried a glowbar from the ceiling and pulled off the casing to attack the wiring with a pair of pliers. "It's been flickering upon power-up," he explained. "Not a massive problem, but could lead to a circuit short later on."

Holly folded her arms. "Whatever you did, am I going to get in trouble for it?"

Artemis paused. "Pardon?"

"Fowl, I have been watching you play this game all day. What did you do, and how is it going to come back to haunt me?"

Artemis stared at her a second longer before returning his attention to the glowbar, giving the pliers one last half-turn before setting them aside with satisfaction. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Let me rephrase: What don't you want me finding out?"

"That is even less specific, and I am insulted by the implications," he said, not sounding particularly offended at all. "But as we are currently on the topic, I do need your signature for -"

"_I knew it!"_ she hissed, poking a finger into his chest. "And the answer is no."

"You don't even know what I need your signature for."

She jabbed at him again. "And yet, I am already dead certain I don't want to be signing anything."

Unperturbed, Artemis reached into his pocket for his smartphone. With a quick flick of his fingers, he pulled up the document on the lightscreen and held it out to her.

Holly hesitated before snatching the phone for a closer look. A quick skim of its contents merely solidified her decision. "Absolutely not."

"But Holly," Artemis protested, "I've now been working out of Haven for six months, and I need this permit to remain in the city. If I am not here, LEPfoul falls apart."

"You don't need my signature to remain in the city. You need it to remain living in my apartment. If I don't sign it, you have to find your own place to live and sign it yourself." The elf folded her arms. "The answer is still no."

She had, in fact, been aware that this was coming - for the last six months, a calendar on her communicator had been counting down the days until her human friend's temporary work permit expired. Three more to go. To her credit, Holly managed to avoid a smile.

-x-

Clutching a cup of lukewarm coffee that he had picked up on the way to work that morning, Caltrop stifled a yawn as he stepped into the LEPfoul office. The room was dim, with only the light from the street outside filtering through the window. The water sprite blinked in muted surprise.

"Foaly two point oh?" he called out cautiously, stepping around the inflatable strawberry that somehow still hadn't been removed from the office. "Am I the first one - glub! - here this morning?"

"Dude. Can you stop calling me that?" In the corner, the AI's interface lit up and almost immediately shifted to a rather irritated shade of orange. "It's embarrassing."

"It's . . . your name?" Caltrop set his sim-coffee down on the edge of his desk, reaching to adjust his gill tank with his free hand.

"Yeah, but it's not my _name_, you dig?"

Caltrop tipped his head. "You have another name?"

"Oh my - dude, I don't have any other name!" Immediately, the interface's lights shifted to a downcast shade of blue. "Dude. What kind of intelligent personality doesn't even have a name of their own? Oh, wow. That's so lame."

"Look, I didn't mean it," said Caltrop, flicking a finger against his tank to readjust the flow of bubbles through the tube. As helpful as the artificial personality could be, it was temperamental to a fault. Best to head off the oncoming temper tantrum before it had a chance to begin. "Just... pick a name and we'll start calling you that."

"Huh." The lights flickered in thought. "Caltrop. That's a cool name."

"That's _my_ name!"

"Exactly, dude!"

"No, no, no. See, that's not - glub! - not how names work! If you wanna be called 'Caltrop' we may as well keep calling you 'Foaly' because it's the exact same thing!"

"No, I don't want to be called 'Foaly,' I wanna be called something cool like 'Caltrop'!"

"But that's _my _name!"

By the time Dodo arrived, twenty minutes later with her own sim-coffee in tow, they were still arguing in circles. It wasn't until Holly and Artemis showed up, nearly ten minutes after the dwarf, that anybody was able to break it up and set the two of them to work: Artemis glared at the water sprite until Caltrop remembered that he actually did have work to get done that morning, while Holly threatened to shoot Foaly 2.0.

Again.

-x-

"Maeve! No way. You look fabulous!"

A troll scrambled around the booth, nearly knocking over a pair of superheroes in his haste to catch up with the girl.

She didn't turn until he tugged playfully on her scarf, nearly pulling half of it off her shoulder in the process. With a slight frown, Maeve caught the bundle of wool before it could slide to the ground and shot an accusatory glare over her shoulder. She was a tall girl with dark hair and skin, with a long stride and a mouth that was in constant motion. In defiance of the flurry of costumes on the convention floor, her outfit was relatively plain. The only indication that she had prepared for the convention at all was the scarf itself, a concoction of bold tan, purple, red, turquoise, and yellow wool. It was nearly twice as long as she was tall, which was no mean feat; if asked, she would proudly admit that she had knit it herself. In one of her pockets nestled a replica sonic screwdriver. When she saw who had stopped her, however, the girl pursed her lips in confusion for just a moment.

"Surprise! You remember me, right? Your buddy, Ray?" the troll exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "Love the scarf, by the way."

"Ray," Maeve responded, a strained smile stretching her face. "Wonderful costume. Let me guess, you're the crabby one."

Ray beamed, pointing a gray-gloved finger to the candy-corn horns stuck to his head. "Right in one! I was gonna be the juggalo but the horns wouldn't stay put so I had to improvise. But how've you been? I haven't talked to you in ages!"

Maeve shrugged, wracking her memory for where exactly she knew Ray from. There was something familiar about the teenager, but she couldn't quite place his face. It was disconcerting, to say the least. "Oh, you know - working on this and that. Recently, I've started looking into the Slenderman mythos. It's absolutely fascinating, you know. Are you familiar -?"

"Hey, yeah, I've heard of Slenderman!" Ray assured her.

"Well. It's mathy. Really mathy. I'm basically reinventing how physics works." Typically she would not be so open with the object of her research, but she had learned at a very young age that discussing her findings tended to end casual conversations in record time. "Did you know that gravity might not be exactly 9.81 meters per second after all? So much math, it's ridiculous. I'm trying to tie it into these images I found, because I noticed that fractal patterns of distortion may actually tie back into fluctuations in natural phenomena, and -"

"Wow," he interrupted, jamming his hands inside the pockets of his dark jeans. "That's really cool. Go you! I'm, uh, I totally need to catch a picture with that cosplayer over there so catch ya later!"

Maeve waved her sonic helplessly. "But I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. About how the pictures can't be photoshopped because they're mathematically consistent with - oh, and you're gone. Okay." She adjusted her scarf and rolled her shoulders back, tilting her head to stretch out a kink in her neck. "Finally," she muttered, before continuing on her way.

-x-

"Eugh," cringed Caltrop, staring in dismay at his computer screen. One hand hovered over the keyboard, ready to exit out of the tab, yet he couldn't quite bring himself to stop reading. One more section, and then he would -

"_Screeeech!"_

Caltrop flailed and was halfway beneath the desk before he remembered that Lucia was no longer a danger to him in these offices. "Sass!" he squeaked, releasing a flurry of bubbles through his gill tubes. "Stop doing that!"

"Whatcha reading?" the centaur asked, ignoring his glare. She bent over his shoulder to peer at the screen. "Slenderman? Isn't this one of those human urban myths? Delightfully creepy. Hey - there's this _great_ human game you should play -"

Caltrop interrupted her before she could change the topic. "Yes, Slenderman," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. "One of the Changelings has been researching this stuff for the last few w-weeks. I can't - glub! - can't see how it'd be important, but it's eaten up so much of her Internet history that I - well, feel like maybe we should -"

Sass shrugged. "Aren't we only worried about when they find out about the People? Who cares whether some genius kid is wasting all her time on urban myths?"

Across the room, Artemis raised his head. "Think about what you just said. You are a fairy. To the majority of the human race, you _are_ an urban myth."

Silence followed his statement. Artemis sighed. "What are we looking at?"

"S-Slenderman," Caltrop said. "It's a real urban myth so we can just leave it b-be, right?"

Rather than answer directly, Artemis asked, "Where is the Changeling located?"

Caltrop's heart sank.

-x-

Upon leaving the convention hall, Maeve nearly walked right past the troll again. He was perched on a bench outside, with his head bent down and his wig still perched neatly on top of his head.

"Hang on, I know you!" Maeve huffed, reaching forward to snatch the synthetic hair from the boy's head. Ray attempted to duck out of the way, but not quickly enough; when Maeve drew her arm back she took the wig with her. It hung like a dead animal in her grip, and she lowered her hand quickly. "I saw you this morning - you were in the coffee shop!"

"Yeah, I'm a barista. I work at the café just down the road, the one that's right across from the community centre...?"

"So if you work here, _why did I see you last night in the lobby of my hotel?"_

Ray gulped, spreading his fingers open against the bench as he finally uncurled to peer up at her. "Because I have a cousin in town, she's getting married! Please stop looking at me like that - !" He shifted, and Maeve looked down to the object in his lap. She gasped, outraged.

"That's my tablet!"

"You dropped it!"

"Like hell I dropped it!" Maeve wrestled the device away from the costumed teenager's grip, holding it up to examine it for damage with narrowed eyes. "You have thirty seconds to explain, or I'm pressing charges!"

"Fine, you win!" Ray scratched the back of his neck, where the bottom edge of his wig had been itching all afternoon. "My name is Raimo Eskola, I'm actually from around here -"

"The point!" Maeve snapped, tilting the tablet to study a scratch in the casing.

"Well," continued the boy without missing a beat, "I do work in that café, and when you were standing in line getting coffee two days ago I couldn't help but notice what was on that tablet of yours."

"And so you started stalking me?" It was Maeve's turn to step backwards; Ray sprang up from the bench to defend himself, spreading his hands before him, his fingers still covered in the costume gloves.

"No, not stalking! I'm just curious, that's all, I promise! Those numbers you've got there - they're really something, you know that?"

"They're mathy," said Maeve simply. "And you're not actually a cosplayer."

"I'm mathy!" he said, beaming. "And no, I'm not _technically _a cosplayer, I just like to dress up. I _am _sorry for following you but I saw just enough of your numbers to want to know what you were actually up to. I figured it didn't look like you'd thought to take your analysis - which is brilliant, by the way, so kudos to you there - and map it over real-world terrain! So I took your tablet when you were too busy to miss it, made some adjustments, and now you've got it back so everything is fine. Look right here!" The boy jabbed a gloved thumb at the screen, and Maeve rocked backwards on her heels to keep the tablet safe. "All your energy vectors converge in one particular spot, here!"

"Does this mean there's some poor unfortunate troll locked unconscious in a supply cupboard somewhere?" asked Maeve, crinkling her nose as she tilted the screen in an attempt to read it in the direct daylight.

"Nah." Ray shrugged, reaching to pry his wig back from the girl's hand. "He's unconscious in the security booth. I figured that way somebody will find him eventually." A brief frown flickered across Ray's face as he calculated. "Actually, no. He would be awake by now. And wondering where his costume went. And probably pretty crabby."

"You're insane," said the girl flatly, glancing downwards as she tapped her tablet once more to pull Ray's adjustments to the data into better resolution.

"I was being sarcastic?"

"You're insane."

Ray beamed, tucking his hair back beneath his wig as he set it smartly once more on his head. "And mathy."

-x-

Juliet twirled the end of her braid against the palm of her hand. "Maeve Connors spends too much time on the internet. Why does that mean I have to go find her in Finland? And _don't_ say it's because she lives there. I know _that._"

She could have sworn Artemis cringed. "Did Butler ever tell you what transpired in Barcelona?"

"Oh, no." Apparently, he had.

"What happened in Barcelona?" asked a dutiful Caltrop, leaning in a little to hear the story.

Artemis frowned. "In Barcelona, I was briefly pulled between dimensions by a demon. No photographs were taken of that incident in the present day, but we nearly materialized in a myriad of places and times."

"So...?"

"So, when this half-materialization is caught on film, you can see the result. Images filtered across different points in time tend to shift, in a manner akin to passing light through a prism. My movements within the time tunnel became blurred in such a way that it would be possible for an individual of sufficient intelligence to trace the patterns of distortion backwards to mathematically quantify the energy fluctuations that had caused them. From there, the existence of inter-dimensional travel - and, by extension, the existence of magic itself - would be a simple matter to prove. You need to be in Finland because that is where Maeve Connors is, and I believe she is headed towards exactly this discovery."

Juliet ignored the last part of that statement. "You're saying that you're Slenderman," she said instead, folding her arms.

Holly rolled her eyes. "Of course you're Slenderman."

"By the time I discovered what had happened, several of the images had already been uploaded to the internet. To prevent any of them from being examined too closely, I manufactured an urban myth," admitted Artemis. "So, yes. That would be exactly what I am saying."

"Wait, you _wrote _that stuff? That came out of _your_ head?" asked a horrified Caltrop. Everybody ignored him.

In hindsight, perhaps he was the only one who was at all surprised.

-x-

The first hint of trouble was a groan in the piping. Artemis glanced down, irritated, before turning his attention back to Holly. "This doesn't have to be difficult. You're making this difficult."

The elf gave a sound of exasperation. "Fowl, things are always difficult when you're involved!"

A trail of bubbles floated to the surface of the water cooler, followed by another groan. Neither of them paid any attention.

"It's a signature, Holly. You sign things all the time. We both know I will continue staying in your apartment, so you might as well just end this now."

"Oh, _you want me_ to end this now? Maybe _I want you_ to move out of my apartment. Did that even occur to you?"

This time, the sound the watercooler gave off was more akin to a loud creak. Artemis shot it a glare while pulling out his phone. "Here, I have the form with me now. Just sign the -"

"No, Fowl. I said no. Why don't you run along with Juliet and go annoy some fellow Mud Men on the surface?"

He gave her a look. "I already said I can't risk another Changeling seeing me. Certainly not this one, as the sight of me might cause her to draw associations between Slenderman and -"

Holly threw up her hands. "I don't care! It's my apartment, so this is my decision! Not yours!"

She took a menacing step forward as though to accentuate her point. In doing so, her elbow brushed gently against the side of the watercooler. A low gurgle sounded in protest, accompanied by another ominous creak. And then, before Artemis had even formed an angry retort, an explosion of water engulfed them both.

Holly did not think twice. While some part of Artemis's brain was busy calculating the exact velocity of the explosion in an attempt to triangulate the direction and magnitude of the concussive force that must have caused it, Holly fell back to decades of crisis response training. Before the last droplet of water had finished falling to the carpet, the elf had closed the gap between the two of them. She sprang at the human, pressing him down and out of the potential line of fire from the window. Artemis gasped in protest as he was knocked off his feet, Holly twisting a little to ensure he would not be injured by the impact - she was already mentally deciding upon escape routes, and needed him to be able to run.

"Stay down!" she hissed before he could protest. The elf didn't stop moving, rolling off to the side and reaching for her weapon. By the time she was right-side up again, Holly raised her head and barked at the stunned occupants of the office, "Lucia!"

There was no sign of the bird, of course. Holly simply knew that inside LEPfoul, the threat of the bird would be guaranteed to make her coworkers duck and cover more quickly than anything else she could possibly say. Sure enough, Caltrop squeaked and disappeared immediately while Dodo took the time to lift her fish tank carefully from the corner of her desk and take it with her to safety, cradling the glass aquarium in her arms to cushion it from any incoming shock. Sass bared her teeth a moment longer before reluctantly kneeling down and out of sight.

The AI, upon running diagnostics of the situation, blinked twice and flashed a reassuring chocolate-chip mint shade of green. "Chill, dudes! Something in the water cooler pressure valve just backfired. I'm not sure what, but I'm pretty sure nobody's trying to attack us, so everybody just take a deep breath and find their happy place, okay?" If the artificial personality had eyes, it would have rolled them in the direction of Holly and Artemis. "Gee, you'd think you two were half-expecting somebody to try to kill you guys or something."

Artemis pushed himself up off the carpet, noting in vague dismay that his suit was soaked. Behind them, the twisted remnants of the water cooler dribbled rivulets of liquid down to the floor. Aside from the faint sound of the dripping water, all was silent. Able to examine the wreckage now, he murmured his agreement with the centaur's assessment.

"You broke it," said Holly flatly, staring down at Artemis with her neutrino still gripped in her hand.

"I didn't touch it."

"Doesn't matter. This only happens when you're around!"

"Actually," said Dodo, poking her head up from behind her desk in a futile attempt to be helpful, "the other day one of Caltrop's gill compressors went when neither of you two were anywhere near the office."

Surprising nobody, Foaly 2.0 felt the need to give input on the situation. "I think the universe just hates us, dudes."

-x-

Maeve had barely settled in for a long flight when the person behind her started to kick the back of her seat. Gritting her teeth, she flipped open her novel in an attempt to ignore the irritation. It didn't help.

She managed to last until the plane was taxiing down the runway to take off before her temper snapped. "Would you stop that please?" she hissed, straining to peer through the seats to the culprit behind her.

Then she realized who it was. "No. Oh no. No way."

The teenager waving cheerfully at her was hardly recognizable as the troll she'd confronted outside the convention centre. With a shock of red hair and a set of thick-framed glasses, the only sign of his costume were the thin gray gloves that he still wore on both hands. His wide grin, however, was all too familiar.

"No," Maeve said again, and then, "What are you even doing here?"

"Well, the vectors all point to Barcelona, don't they?" Ray asked.

"Which explains why I am here," Maeve said tightly. "Why are you stalking me again?"

Ray leaned back, propping his feet up against the back of Maeve's seat and ignoring the glare of the passenger beside him. "Wait, no, I'm not stalking _you_! This is just fascinating!" he exclaimed. "Slenderman! Coordinates!" He winked. "Mathy stuff!"

Maeve groaned and turned to face frontward again. A moment later, a voice sounded over her shoulder, "So I was thinking when we arrive -"

Ray had leaned forward to peer through the gap in the seats, the sides of his face pressed firmly into the fabric. Without hesitation, Maeve pressed her hand over his mouth and pushed him back. A lock of his hair brushed against her hand and she realized with a start that it was synthetic. Another wig. _How,_ she wondered, _had he managed to get that through security?_

-x-

"And I just don't like it! You know, I bet if I had a name that was super awesome and smart and cool, everybody would have a much easier time seeing exactly how fantastic of a dude I really am," said the artificial intelligence in an especially whiney tone. It had taken it all morning to pick a voice interface that sounded nasal enough for the purpose, and he was secretly quite proud of the result.

"Well," said Dodo diplomatically as she delicately sponged another few drops of water from the intelligence's circuit board, "I can certainly see where that would be upsetting."

"It's hard trying to be a unique individual! It's hard, and nobody understands!" The lights on the AI's console flickered in time with the syllables, a lurid shade of orange that burned at the dwarf's retinas.

"Maybe," Dodo suggested as she shaded her eyes with one curled hand while the other held the sponge steady, "if you want a name that belongs to somebody else so badly, go read some stories or something and pick one from there. That way you can be named after somebody you admire."

"Hey!" exclaimed the AI, lighting up in a yellow burst. "You know, you're pretty smart, Dodo Feldspar. People don't give you enough credit for that, do they?"

The dwarf scuffed the toe of her boot against the carpet. "People give me enough credit," she said simply. "If they don't, it's their problem."

"I mean, dude, you're smart but people don't realize it. Maybe if you had the same name as _a super smart and cool AI,_ they would -"

"No!"

-x-

"All right," Juliet began, speaking into her phone as she looked out over Helsinki's cityscape. "I have successfully arrived in Helsinki like you asked. What am I supposed to do again?"

"Actually, our plans have changed," Artemis responded. "We need you to head to Barcelona."

"_Barcelona?"_ Juliet repeated. "You do realize that's hours away?"

"If you take the chutes, you'll arrive in plenty of time before Maeve."

Juliet looked down at the sunglasses clutched in her hand that she hadn't even had a chance to put on yet. With a sigh, she tucked them back into her bag. "There had better be a good reason for this."

Artemis coughed. "You can blame the centaur's artificial intelligence. Originally, I was planning to have you wait in Finland to meet with Maeve when she returned from Barcelona, but I'm afraid that will not work any longer. The AI was in the process of searching the internet for stories - for what reason, I have no idea - when he caught wind of Slenderman from an office discussion. It took less than a minute for him to read the Slenderman database, determine the internet was better off without the urban myth, and delete everything."

"Wait - everything? Like, _everything? _Can you even do that? I thought the internet was forever."

"Not when a fairy's artificial intelligence is involved. As I said, blame the centaur."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "All right then. Why do I have to confront Maeve in Barcelona, then? Can't you just send someone to mind wipe her?"

"Not if the entire Internet is talking about the disappearance of Slenderman," replied Artemis. "It could easily trigger a recall. The only way to resolve this situation is to give her an answer. And what better closure than at the location where the incident began?"

-x-

Supervising the office clean-up had taken most of the morning. Even though they'd done everything in their power to encourage the place to dry out more quickly, Artemis's loafers still squished against the sodden carpet. It was bad enough to be walking around with wet socks when one had the normal number of toes; adding an extra digit to the equation only ensured that he had spent all morning acutely aware of how uncomfortable he was.

Compounding matters, the marketing agency downstairs had already sent a rather peevish-looking sprite up to complain about the fact that their ceiling had begun to drip on their weekly "meeting of the minds." The human had glared at the poor sprite so intensely that she had only gotten half a sentence out before deciding that perhaps a career in marketing wasn't exactly for her.

Artemis cast a glance across the room. Along the opposite wall, Holly was deep in conversation with Foaly's artificial intelligence. She seemed to be threatening to shoot it again; her fingers drummed rhythmically against the barrel of her neutrino, and Artemis kept catching his own hands twitching in response. "I'll go find us a new water cooler," he volunteered, just loudly enough to be sure that the elf heard him.

"The answer's still no, Mud Boy," responded Holly without looking up. "I'm not signing that form."

"Why must you always assume that I've got an ulterior motive?"

"Do you seriously expect an answer to that question?"

"I was not making any attempt to -"

"Of course you were, it's _you _we're talking about -"

"But Holly-"

"I'll go instead," interrupted Dodo, brushing her hands together as she stood up from her desk. "Could use the fresh air."

"Me too!" said Sass quickly, springing up and turning towards the door. "I think Dodo and I can handle this one! You two just stay here and -"

"Can I come?" asked Caltrop, a hopeful air bubble pulsing through his gill tube.

"Nah, we've got it!" the centaur reassured him, already halfway out the door with Dodo right behind her.

"But I'm head intern!" said Caltrop pointlessly. Artemis, on his way back to his desk, tried to nod in a way that was reassuring without being patronizing. It didn't quite work.

"And no, you _can't start calling yourself 'Holly'!" _said the elf as she returned once more to her argument with the artificial intelligence. "That's not how names work!"

-x-

_Do not engage the Changelings_ was top amongst the LEPfoul's surveillance rules. In the weeks since the department had started operating under their newfound directive, this rule had been repeated often enough that anyone would have to be particularly obtuse to not pay attention to it.

Obtuse, or perhaps just determined. Possibly both. Then again, this was the Foul Team.

Two hours after the plane carrying Maeve and Ray had left Finland, an alert popped up on Caltrop's screen. "She's online again!" he chirped, and glanced up to see that the office was empty. "Hello? Where did everyone go?"

"We-ell," drawled the AI from across the room. "Juliet is currently travelling to Barcelona, Sass and Dodo left to go replace the water cooler, and I think Holly and Artemis took their argument outside. I am still here, though, because I am a nameless artificial intelligence with no method of independent movement. Are you sure 'Caltrop' is out of the question?"

"No!" Caltrop blurted. "I mean, yes, it is. Out of the question, I mean."

The AI's lights flared green. "Dude. No need to get snippy."

Rather than answer, Caltrop looked down again at his computer screen. The surveillance technology allowed him to pull up a view of Maeve's screen so he could watch her online actions in real time. The very first site she navigated to was the Slenderman forum she had frequented - or rather, where the forum would have been had the AI not scrubbed it from the internet an hour ago. Next, she checked several Slenderman blogs only to find that they had disappeared as well. Web searches predictably revealed nothing.

Caltrop watched all this, nervously playing with his gill tube and glancing up repeatedly to the door in the hopes that someone would return soon enough to tell him what to do.

Finally, Maeve opened a tab to one of her social media accounts and submitted a post.

_ slendywho tweeted: _

_Just me, or are all the Slenderman websites down at once? _

Again, Caltrop fidgeted, glancing up to the door and then to the AI. There was no one who could help him with this decision. "Well," he muttered to himself, "I _am_ head intern."

Across the room, the AI's lights blinked hopefully. "What's that, dude?"

Caltrop was too busy typing to answer. It took only a minute to create an account on the social media site. Another two minutes were spent deliberating over how to reply. Finally, biting his lip, Caltrop reread his message and clicked send.

_ fishibusiness tweeted to slendywho:_

_I don't see anything either. Bizarre, isn't it?_

He sat back, tapping his fingers anxiously against the desk as he waited. On the screen, Maeve was cycling through the deleted Slenderman sites again, until finally she pulled open the twitter tab to read Caltrop's message.

_ slendywho tweeted to fishibusiness:_

_Weird! Any idea what's going on?_

Any idea? Caltrop shot a glare across the room to the oblivious AI.

_ fishibusiness tweeted to slendywho: _

_well I've got a friend whose slender blog just went down. I'll check with them maybe?_

_ slendywho tweeted to fishibusiness:_

_YES please do! _

Satisfied that his initiative was leading to promising results, Caltrop pushed his chair back. Taking his time, he left the office to find a cup of sim-coffee. When he returned, Maeve was reading a new blog post about the sudden disappearance of Slenderman information.

_ fishibusiness tweeted to slendywho:_

_Friend has no idea why her blog went down. It's not the host site - rumours of a virus attacking only Slenderman info._

_ slendywho tweeted to fishibusiness:_

_Yeah, so I've heard. Any other ideas?_

_ fishibusiness tweeted to slendywho:_

_Friend knows someone trying to trace the virus. I'll let you know if they find anything!_

_ raimooo tweeted to fishibusiness and slendywho:_

_Hey guys! Talking about Slendy? XD_

_ slendywho tweeted to raimooo:_

_NO. NOT WITH YOU._

_- slendywho has blocked raimooo -_

-x-

"Hey, that wasn't called for!" said Ray over her shoulder, kicking the back of her chair.

Maeve closed her eyes and reached for her headphones. Three hours to go.

-x-

The flight from Helsinki to Barcelona would have been long even under ordinary circumstances. With Ray in close proximity, years seemed to pass. It turned out that the Finnish boy didn't sleep on planes, nor did he stop talking. The brief moments of relief occurred only when Ray would disappear to the bathroom, returning all too soon with some subtle change in his appearance.

Once, after a three-minute pause of silence, Maeve turned in her seat to check whether Ray had finally fallen asleep; instead, she discovered that he'd switched to a wig of long, black hair and applied feminine eyelashes. Maeve could only stare at him in disbelief.

Ray misinterpreted her expression. "Oo, are we going to talk about Slenderman now?" he trilled.

Maeve just shook her head.

The moment they landed and disembarked, however, a now-blond Ray collapsed in a row of chairs near the baggage claim and instantly fell asleep. Maeve found herself staring down at him, debating the pros and cons of leaving him behind. _It's not like I agreed to have him tag along,_ she thought. Yet he was so small and defenseless on the bench that she couldn't quite bring herself to move away.

_Fine,_ she decided at last, dropping her bag on the seat next to him. _I'll wait. He'd probably catch up to me anyway, and I'd never see him coming._

-x-

_ slendywho tweeted to fishibusiness:_

_Just landed. Any new updates?_

_ fishibusiness tweeted to slendywho: _

_Can't believe you're actually in Barcelona! Um, managed to trace IP address of the comp where the Slendy virus originated from_

_ fishibusiness tweeted to slendywho: _

_And I located where the comp's currently at! I'll DM you the coordinates. And guess which city?_

_ slendywho tweeted to fishibusiness: _

_No. No way. Barcelona? REALLY?_

_ fishibusiness tweeted to slendywho: _

_Some coincidence, huh?_

_ slendywho tweeted to fishibusiness: _

_More than that, for sure. But we'll get to the bottom of this! Nicely done, btw. You are AMAZING. _

_ fishibusiness tweeted to slendywho: _

_Just let me know how it all turns out, okay? _

-x-

The next time Maeve turned around, Ray had aged a decade.

"Okay, seriously, how are you doing that?" she hissed.

This time, the boy's grin was more relaxed and mature, as befitting his new character. "It's all about the lines," he explained, waving a hand over his face.

"Really?"

"No - but if I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"Ray."

"Actually kill you. Gotta protect my trade secrets."

"_Ray."_

He spread out his arms and protested, "Sarcasm!"

-x-

"Say, Arty dude. I was just thinking -"

"Run through the possible outcomes before voicing your request," Artemis interrupted immediately.

The AI's lights dimmed. "I just thought I'd ask," he said sulkily.

Half-hidden behind her computer, Holly coughed in disbelief. "Do you ever give anyone else a choice, Fowl?"

"Do you really want a second 'Artemis' in this office?"

-x-

From his position on the roof of the Casa Milà, Ray had a perfect view of Maeve and her contact as they spoke on the street. He wore one half a set of earpieces that he'd snagged from one of the convention security booths before leaving the hall, leaning against the roof's edge as he listened to the conversation below. He was happy he'd taken the extra few moments to properly secure his wig, as the rooftop breeze threatened to set the synthetic hair askew. Somehow, when he'd pictured Barcelona, he'd imagined something warmer - from his vantage point, it was just cold enough that he was grateful for his gloves.

Ray always wore gloves. It wasn't something he could fully explain, beyond the fact that he just liked them. It was nice to have some kind of calling card, a trait that he could take with him through each of his disguises. And besides, it was much easier to not get caught in any of his various misdemeanours if he knew he wouldn't be leaving fingerprints behind him. _Stalking, though! That's a new one. I don't think I've ever been caught - erm, accused of - stalking somebody before._

Now, both his hands were wrapped around a pair of binoculars. They were nothing special - also stolen from a security booth at the convention, as a matter of fact - but they allowed him to get a decent view of the outdoor cafe patio. Not quite enough resolution to read lips, of course, but he figured that was what the earpiece was for.

"I just want to know," Maeve was saying, "Did you have anything to do with the Slendy Virus?"

"Hang on." The contact paused to study her. "You're a friend of Ralph's?"

"Ralph?" Maeve repeated.

-x-

Belowground, Caltrop sat up straight in indignation._ "Ralph?"_

Artemis winced. "Chlorella's twitter username is fishibusiness."

-x-

"Fishibusiness," Juliet repeated, closing the laptop that sat on the table before her.

Maeve nodded eagerly. "So you talked to him! Look, I just want to know why you did it. And how. That must be some code to crash every Slenderman-related site at once!"

"Yeah," Juliet said slowly. She rubbed the back of her neck. "Um, about that. It was an accident?"

"That makes even less sense."

-x-

"You spend your free time writing code," Artemis coached, "And you got hacked. Someone set your code off before you had a chance to refine it."

-x-

"My friends dared me to write the code. And then my ex decided to set it loose as a parting gift. He works at a TECHNIO digital center, and apparently had access to enough processing power to make it as destructive as it was."

"Your ex," Maeve repeated. "Why would your friends even dare you to write that kind of code?"

Juliet rubbed her chin. "Because I accidentally made Slender-Man to begin with? They were freaked out by how creepy it ended up being, and then we blinked and it was _everywhere. _I think they just wanted to know I could kill it if it got too annoying." She paused. "Look, it was a long summer and we were bored. Just took a simple algorithm and used it to determine the distortions to use on each image. Looking back at it, it came out a lot more impressive than it actually was."

-x-

"You'll send her a copy of the code," instructed Artemis. "I'm writing it as we speak."

-x-

"I won't explain it in detail - there's a ton of math involved. But I can send you a copy if you want."

The offer didn't even need consideration. "A copy? Math? Yes, please do!"

-x-

Ray watched as the two women parted ways, finally straightening to tuck his binoculars back inside his bag. As he turned to leave the rooftop, something caught his eye. The Finnish boy narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to get a better look.

There. A rooftop mosaic, depicting a pale figure in a suit stepping out of thin air. Ray paused. Something in the back of his brain was humming, and he examined the surrounding tiles closely for more clues. _There!_ Not too far away, a second mosaic - almost an extension of the first - showed an unfamiliar lizardlike creature. It, too, seemed to be slipping through a crack in the universe.

_Oh, that's interesting. Maybe mathy, too. We'll see._

A moment later Raimo Eskola was descending in the lift, his camera phone tucked snugly once more inside his pocket.

-x-

It was near the end of the workday by the time Sass and Dodo returned. The centaur swished her tail proudly. "We're back!" she announced triumphantly. "Did we miss anything?"

Dodo waddled across the room with Sass keeping pace behind her. The dwarf's short arms barely reached all the way around the tank of the new water cooler, but she didn't trust the centaur to carry their prize without dropping it. "I'm sorry it took so long. We had to visit nearly every office supply store in the city," she said. "Clerks kept recognizing Sass and kicking us out."

"But you're glad you took me along anyways because I got us one stellar deal on this baby!" The centaur patted the top of the new cooler with a hearty sort of fondness, and Dodo's knees almost buckled. "Here, let me help you!" she finally offered, two feet away from the stand.

Caltrop set down his tablet, drifting to that side of the room to watch with bated breath as the two interns attached the water cooler to the main supply. One moment passed, and then another.

When no imminent disaster surfaced after half a minute, the three of them sighed in unison.

"That's the end of that!" Sass exclaimed, brushing her hands off against each other.

"Thankfully," said Dodo.

That was when Foaly 2.0 turned itself back on. "Hey, buddies? Come over here a second?"

"We can hear you just fine," pointed out Dodo. The AI sighed.

"Look, dudes, it's polite to look in somebody's face when you're talking to them. I don't have a face, per say, but I'm still a unique and individual type of - well, individual dude!" AI's console light turned a bright shade of blue. "And I was reading through human myths and folklore and stories, and man, I think I found a name. Well, a cool individual dude's name. I mean, the whole sun thing didn't work out too great for him, but we're underground so I figure it's gotta be a safe bet, right? So from now on, fellow interns, please call me 'Icarus!'"

Caltrop, to his credit, responded with a smile that may have been entirely genuine. "Good job, buddy! You - you thought for yourself, and I think we can all agree that we'll get used to your new name. Welcome to Foul Team, Icky!"

"Wait, what?" The console light turned a suspicious shade of green. "What did you just call me?"

"Icky...?" repeated the water sprite cautiously, reaching to touch the side of his gill tube in a preemptive attempt to ensure the bubble valves remained clear in case an argument broke out.

"Icky!" exclaimed Sass with infinitely more enthusiasm, tossing her purple hair in victory. "You've got a nickname now!"

The console light froze. "But I don't want to be 'Icky'!"

"Too bad!" The centaur flashed a grim smile. "That's the thing about names - once you've got one, you're stuck with it. If I have to walk around with 'Pihassas' written on the top of every single form I ever sign, you can deal with 'Icky.'"

"You never do any of the paperwork, Sass," noted Dodo primly. "Icarus always does your paperwork."

"And it has to sign the paperwork with 'Pihassas,' which is a terrible excuse for a name. Get over yourself, Icky!" Sass folded her arms across her chest, her front hoof tapping the carpeted floor lightly.

"I'll - dudes, I don't even know what I'll do, but Foaly or Fowl or somebody will fix this and you're going to be sorry that you -"

"One of those people has a name that's every bit as bad as yours, and the other one still wears tin foil hats every now and then. I think you're out of luck there, _dude_."

-x-

Maeve and Ray parted ways outside of the security gate in Helsinki Airport. Ray had changed his appearance once more before passing through customs, now sporting sandy blonde hair and a dark green pair of gloves. "This is what I look like in my passport picture," he explained. "Usually I try to push it a little bit, but it's been a long few days. Time for us to split up, huh?"

Maeve sighed, shaking his hand all the same. "I'd like to say it's been nice having the company, Ray, but..."

"I'm glad we met, too!" There was a sincerity in his voice that, despite herself, made Maeve quirk half a smile.

"By the way, I've unblocked you on Twitter. If you ever decide to start stalking me again, could you maybe warn me first?"

Ray shook his head vehemently. "Hey, I already explained that I wasn't stalking you. I just wanted to find out what you were up to so I followed you around without telling you about it, that's all."

"Ray. _You just defined stalking_."

"Huh." His eyes widened in horror. "You know, I didn't actually think about it, but you're right. Wow. That's a bit creepy. I guess I should maybe apologize?"

"Yeah," said the girl flatly. "You should."

"Maeve Connors, I extend my most sincere apology for stalking you," said the Finnish boy with an earnest nod. "It will not happen again, and if it does, my disguise will be so good that you'll never know about it!"

"_Ray!" _exclaimed Maeve sharply.

Ray raised one gloved hand in self-defense. "I was being sarcastic!" he said, and gave a mock salute. "Keep in touch!"

"I will." Shaking her head in dismay, Maeve turned away from him and reached into her bag for her tablet. _May as well get one last tweet out before I catch a taxi out of here. I bet fishibusiness would like to know how this situation resolved itself._

Instead of the expected smooth edge of her tablet, Maeve's hand closed around something soft. Brow furrowed, she pulled out from her bag a pair of fingerless gloves. They were knit from thick turquoise, tan, red, and purple wool, and perfectly matched her costume scarf. She was unexpectedly touched by the gesture but by the time the girl turned to thank her new friend for the parting gift, he had already blended away into the crowd.

-x-

Busy tapping at his phone, Artemis hardly bothered to glance up when the landlord barrelled into the apartment lift. Nor did he raise his head as the lift continued upward, despite the gnome's nervous fidgeting. When the doors opened again, Artemis stepped out first and pretended not to notice that he was being followed as he strode down the hall.

Only as he paused before the door to Holly's apartment did the gnome, still halfway down the hall, call gruffly, "Oi! You. Mud Boy!"

Artemis sighed before turning. "Hello, Jenner."

"Hmph." The gnome waddled down the hallway to meet him, stopping to jab at Artemis's chest much as Holly had that morning. "I heard something through the grapevine today, human. I heard that you have two days left before you have to submit your signed residency permit if you want to continue living here. _And_ I heard that the elf in charge of signing that form doesn't want to sign that form."

Artemis regarded him blandly. "Interesting, the rumours you can hear without leaving your apartment."

The gnome flushed red. "Look here, Mud Boy. I want you out of my apartment, you hear? No way is that elf signing your paperwork."

"I very much doubt 'that elf' is going to consider your input," Artemis commented.

Jenner went so far as to stamp his foot, straining his neck to glare up at the human. Deliberately, he pushed past the boy and down the remainder of the hall to pound loudly on the last door on the left. "Open up, Short!" he bellowed. "You better be in there. I have an issue I need to -"

The door swung open. Holly stood in the opening, hands on her hips and an eyebrow quirked in a manner she'd learned from the best. Her fingers drummed on the barrel of her neutrino that was still strapped to her waist. "Jenner."

The gnome visibly gulped. "Short," he barked, making up for his sudden apprehension by further raising the volume of his voice. "I just came to - that is - no way are you signing that form."

"And what form is that?" Holly asked, her tone level and deceptively reasonable.

Buoyed by the prospect of an ally, Jenner straightened his shoulders and lowered his voice slightly. "The form - the residency - oh, show her the form."

Both Holly and Jenner turned to Artemis, who already had his phone out and was pulling up the form as they spoke. He slid his fingers across the screen to enlarge the page before passing the device to Holly.

"That one," Jenner said decisively. "Don't sign that one."

Holly brought her eyes back to him. In that moment, the gnome realized rather suddenly that he had severely miscalculated the situation. He could only watch helplessly as Holly slid the stylus from its holder and, without breaking her eye contact with the landlord, scribbled her name across the dotted line.

"I - I can have you evicted, you know," the landlord declared half-heartedly.

Artemis ignored him. "By the way, Holly," he said as he accepted his phone back, "I installed a frequency jammer a few months back. Kept neglecting to mention that to you. It's probably nothing more than a case of paranoia but I thought it would be better to safeguard against any potential eavesdroppers."

Holly was still watching the fuming landlord. "You don't say. Good thing I'm not kicking you out, then."

"Indeed."

The moment the door closed, Holly turned her gaze onto Artemis. "You do realize that it is illegal for a landlord to spy on his tenants, and that if you were aware of this you should have done something about it, right?"

Artemis was slightly insulted. "Of course. And I _did_ do something about it. For the entire building, as a matter of fact."

Holly resolved not to ask.

"By the way," Artemis continued. He was frowning slightly, the only outward sign of his unease. "I can't quite believe that I am saying this, but you were right. I apologize for my presumption: it is your apartment, and your decision. If you didn't actually want to sign the form, I haven't sent it in yet. You can still retract your signature. Although I'm afraid I won't be able to relocate immediately; I will be up the remainder of the night reverse-engineering this code to send to Maeve. It has to be mathematically sound without giving away too much."

Surprised at the offer, Holly briefly considered it before admitting, "That's fine. You can move into the guest room in the morning. It's only used for storage anyway. You clear it out, it's yours." She added, "And maybe next time, you'll think to apologize and admit I'm right just a little bit sooner."

Artemis's brief confusion gave way as he visibly brightened. "Excellent. Do these new benefits extend to shelf space in the front room?"

"Don't push your luck, Mud Boy. And if I ever find you've messed with my digital library again, I _will_ kill you."

-x-

"No, go left!" hissed Caltrop in the dark, his eyes wide with panic. Sass shook her head, leaning in close over his shoulder, her face green in the illumination from the computer screen.

"No, we've already been left!" she whispered in return, clicking frantically as though she could make the ground shift faster beneath their virtual feet. "How many more bits of paper do we need to grab before that - that THING stops chasing us?"

"Three!" wailed Caltrop, swinging the flashlight to the forest ahead. "Wait - glub - there's one on the side of that building! C-can't this thing run any faster?"

It turned out that not all copies of the Slenderman computer game had been deleted for good - the version of it saved to Sass's computer had remained. Now, the dim light of the virtual late-night city just barely illuminated the Foul Team offices as the two interns huddled together over a computer screen. Sharing an interface, hearts pounding, they hissed constantly at one another as though attempting to evade a real-life threat.

"It's behind us!" gasped Caltrop.

"Keep running," said Sass, trying her best to be brave. She clicked desperately for the object tacked to the side of a building; on the screen, the woods went dark.

The music stopped.

The beat of silence that followed was punctured, after a moment, by a magnificent Lucia _SCREECH_.

"AAAAAH - glurk!" Caltrop screamed until his tubes clogged, dropping down beneath the desk. "Sass, that's not - not - not funny!" he stuttered, tilting his head to peer up at the centaur through widened eyes.

Much to his horror, Sass's face was also twisted in alarm.

"I didn't do it!"

"You WHAT?"

"Oh, d'arvit - she's back!" said Sass, her voice low with awe.

Apparently Lucia had finally tired of terrorizing Police Plaza and had gone off in search of her owner. One did not need a Changeling's IQ to know that this was not going to be a happy reunion.

Caltrop squeaked, and Sass reached for the nearest blunt object (a lamp that she hoped Caltrop was not actually using for anything). She raised it threateningly as the angry yellow bird wheeled around the corner towards them. For a second the canary flared its wings outwards to cut the momentum from the turn, braking as one more caw broke loose from its beak. And then Lucia bore down upon them. The water sprite cowered behind Sass, sprawled on his stomach as he frantically attempted to adjust his gill tubes. The centaur reared up on her hind legs for battle, steel in her eyes.

"Caw caw, mother -"

-x-

**Author's Note**:

At the time of this posting, Homestuck has been on hiatus for 40 days. We're starting to go a bit loopy. Can you tell?

By the by, the game that Sass and Caltrop are playing is called "Slender: The Eight Pages" and you can find it through an internet search! -Freud

All credit goes to Freud for braving the Slenderman parts of the internet in the name of research. -Winged

Seriously, guys. I had nightmares. So. Many. Nightmares. -Freud

**-x-**

**Too Much Slendy; Didn't Read**:

The team responds to a crisis when a new Changeling, a Finnish girl named Maeve Connors, spends her spare time cosplaying and using memes to mathematically quantify the time-space continuum. They head her off in Barcelona, revealing LEPfoul's new operating procedures: _Do not engage the Changelings. Just give them some of answers they're looking for, so they stop looking at anything we don't want them to see_.

Unbeknownst to LEPfoul, a second Changeling - Raimo Eskola, a kooky chameleon with a penchant for friendly stalking - uncovers the Gaudi mosaic on the roof of the Casa Milá that shows Artemis in the middle of travelling through time. While Maeve goes home satisfied to have gotten to the bottom of things, Ray stores this information away for later.

Foaly's artificial intelligence has an identity crisis upon the realization that it has no name of its own. After some serious soul-searching, it finally chooses the name Icarus (immediately shortened to Icky!) and begins to identify itself as an individual. And thus, the singularity occurs without fanfare - or, indeed, anyone at all taking notice.

Throughout this all, Artemis and Holly have domestic problems when the still-sharing-an-apartment issue comes to a head. It ends with an apology from Artemis and the offer from Holly to move off the couch and into the guest bedroom.

Last but not least, Caltrop and Sass decide to stay late in the office to play through the last remaining copy of a Slenderman-based game. That's where they are when a screech announces the return of everyone's favourite canary.

_And that's what you missed on - glub - Foul Team!_


	11. 2025: Fallout

**EPISODE 2.02.5: FALLOUT**

_Some problems are harder than others to solve._

-x-

"Look, I'm sorry, but I swear - whatever happened to her, I didn't do it! I have no idea who you're talking about - you've got the wrong guy!"

Once more Becquerel Jones shoved the photograph back across the table, his index finger leaving a smudge on the glossy surface. It was a school portrait of a fourteen year-old girl, her head tilted, shoulders relaxed. She gave the camera a wide smile, and barrettes held her hair back from her face. Becquerel Jones had stopped looking at the picture hours ago. They said that it had been several weeks since the girl had gone missing. They said that she'd left a note the night she disappeared. They said that it mentioned him by name.

He'd never seen her before in his life.

"Becquerel, please calm down. You're not being accused of anything - we just want to know what happened to Demia Carter, and any information you can give us will help."

That morning, he had been pulled from his lab for questioning. Apparently they'd turned up at his high school first and, upon not finding him there, had searched his family's primary residence before finally turning up at their old home (the one he had used as a base of operations for the last several years, after his folks had needed to move to a place that allowed more mobility for Liz). At first, two international law enforcement agents had sat on the other side of the table; now, several hours later, it seemed like the entire local precinct had started to take the interrogation in shifts. Early afternoon sun cut across the tabletop, across the picture of the missing girl; it was sweltering in the small room, despite the fan on the corner of the table that occasionally wafted his sweat-slicked hair back from his face.

The woman studying Becquerel now was the third officer to deal with him, and she looked as exhausted as the teenager felt. Throughout their talk, her hands remained wrapped around a styrofoam cup of coffee that wafted a faintly rancid smell into the air. Too much sugar and artificial cream. Hands perfectly still, her face occasionally shifting, giving him no other physiological cues to work with. No way to tell what he should say to make this entire situation go away.

Bec felt like he was going to be sick.

"You can't keep holding me here! I don't know anything, and unless you're charging me with something, you have to let me go! I - I should at least get a phone call, shouldn't I? I want my phone call!" He lifted his chin, folding his arms across his chest, trying to hide the shaking in his voice.

"We've been over this already. You've been placed at several crime scenes in the past two years, Jones." Her brow furrowed. "Looking at your file, we've got several cases of breaking and entering, one count of minor theft, and multiple vandalism charges. And that's not even touching the accusations of stock market fraud. The records just aren't in your favour."

"Hey, the fraud charges - those were years ago and they were totally dropped anyways, and I'm not a killer! Look, I'm - I'm not even from the same country as her, I don't know how you think -"

"No, I don't think you're a killer, you're right. But that girl has a family, and anything you can tell us will help us get her back to them." She settled back in her chair, and took a slow swig of her coffee. "That's all we want - to find that girl and get her back home."

"You're not listening to me! _I don't know her!_ I never forget a face, okay? It's a gift, I never forget people, never forget anything, and I have no idea who that girl is! I wish I could help you, but I can't!"

Silence, for a moment, following his outburst.

Before either individual could speak again, the door opened to admit a young woman. It took Bec several moments to realize that she could not have been much older than he was. Dressed neatly in a skirt and blouse, her curly blonde hair pulled up in a bun and a file folder clutched against her chest, her heels clicked smartly against the floor as she strode across the room.

The officer half rose from her chair in protest. "This is a private room," she stated, and then added uncertainly, "The school tours don't cover this part of the building."

"I'm here to speak with Becquerel Jones, actually," the woman announced, her voice fluid with a European accent - French, though in his dazed state it was difficult for Bec to place the exact region. Her hand extended, a white business card held between two fingers that the officer stared at blankly before realizing she was supposed to take it. The young woman's fingernails were manicured a careful, flawless pink - clearly, she was somebody who knew the benefit of a strong first impression. "I represent his legal counsel."

"Sorry, Miss..." The officer glanced down at the card, "Pardiso?"

"Paradizo," she corrected, withdrawing her hand once more. "And if you'll excuse us, I need a moment with my client."

After the police officer had shuffled dazedly through the doorway, Miss Paradizo crossed the room to stand opposite Becquerel, lifting the officer's abandoned cup of coffee from the table as she passed. Without looking up, she dropped it in the garbage; still half-full of liquid, it rattled against the metal as the styrofoam cup landed right-side-up in the trash can. Not breaking stride, she flipped open her folder and removed the top sheet of paper, setting it down on the surface of the table in front of him. "This is what you are going to do," she told him, finger tapping the page. "Four steps to get you out of here."

Becquerel squinted skeptically at the page before looking up at the young woman again. "You're not old enough to represent legal counsel. How do I -"

She huffed melodramatically. "I said I represent your legal counsel. I lied. I _am _your legal counsel. Here. I know you've had a long day so I've made it as simple as possible. First, you say this." She jabbed at the first line of text and then slowly moved her finger down to the next row, continuing to talk as she prodded each object on the page. "Second, you ask for this. Third, you cite this segment of the criminal code." The woman looked up at him and grinned. "Fourth, you shut up and give your most angelic smile. Say nothing else. Not a word. Got it?"

Bec stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. She sighed, resigned.

"Your silence is good, but that smile could use work. Now, have you got it?"

"But who are you?"

"That's not what I asked."

"Fine. Yes, I understand." He did not need to reread the sheet, sliding it back across the table. The woman nodded, tucking it back inside her folder as she stood.

"Excellent. I'll see you outside."

-x-

Twenty minutes later, Miss Paradizo was waiting for him on the front steps of the police station. She stood facing the street, folder still clutched tight in her arms. He rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly before stumbling down the last three steps to her side.

She checked her watch. "Well done. I was expecting to wait at least another fifteen minutes. You were holding out on me with that angelic smile of yours."

Bec scowled as if to contradict her words. "And you are still not old enough to be a lawyer. I don't like being lied to. Look, if it turns out I shouldn't be wrapped up in this, or that somebody on the food chain somewhere goofed up and you're trying to cover their backs, fine. I get it. I'll walk away. But all I want is to know what's going on, because you are definitely not old enough to be a lawyer!" It was no longer a question.

"I'm not old enough to be a lawyer, and you're not old enough to possess a combined doctorate in nuclear and engineering physics. Yet, somehow, here we are. Everyone has their own talents; there are simply some individuals who have more than others. For example, you build things. I repair them." She glanced at him wryly. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not a lawyer. Technically, I'm a psychiatrist."

She stepped down to the sidewalk and began walking briskly to the right. Bec hesitated a moment before striding to keep up. "Then why are you here?"

"Because I have terribly needy friends. Any other questions?"

Becquerel paused to collect his thoughts, staring down blankly at the concrete. "The girl, the one who went missing. What - what actually happened to her?"

Miss Paradizo went still. "There's nothing you can do for her, Becquerel. Go home to your family. I'm sorry this happened. The police pulled in the wrong person. You won't be bothered again."

"She's dead, isn't she?"

The woman simply sighed. "Go home, Becquerel." She gave him a tight smile before turning to continue her walk up the path.

Becquerel continued to trail after her, his voice hard. "The police said that she mentioned me by name in her letter. I have a very unusual name."

"It was a mistake, that's all. Go home to your family," she said again.

Becquerel stopped. The woman's heels clicked on the pavement as she drew away several steps. As he watched, she brought a cellphone to her ear. "It's done and he's out. You owe me - again." And before there would be time for anyone to respond on the other end, she snapped the phone shut.

When she walked away this time, Becquerel did not follow her. Instead, he sat down heavily on the curb, resting his head in his hands for a moment.

_It's over now. Just breathe._

-x-

That should have been the end of the matter.

He'd misplaced his cell phone a month ago, and so he couldn't call anybody to come pick him up. When he'd finally regained the composure to stand, Bec had no choice but to hike the four blocks to the nearest light rail station. Walking outside, breathing in the fresh air (or, breathing in air that was as fresh as air ever got in downtown Denver), he took the opportunity to consider exactly what to do next. Part of him wanted to go after the strange woman, and determine who and what she was. If that girl, Demia Carter, was out there and in danger, didn't he owe it to her to try and do something about it?

The phone call, though: that was calculated. Bec knew it. Miss Paradizo would have never let him overhear it unless she wanted him to know exactly how dangerous this situation was. _Well, if she was trying to intimidate me, it worked_. He prodded the guard rail with the toe of his sneaker, considering.

Foresight had never been one of Becquerel's strengths. The first time he'd submitted his doctoral research project before a committee, he'd entirely forgotten to calibrate it for the change in altitude between Denver and Stanford. As a result, the poor device had gotten confused and nearly exploded - only a rapid adjustment to his compiler had managed to avert blanketing half of Silicon Valley with low-level gamma radiation. More impressed by the quick fix than by the device itself, the committee had awarded him his degree.

So it was that, when the next homebound train finally arrived, he took it. There were clearly factors at play here that he could not anticipate, and he highly doubted any of them could be manipulated by a few cut wires and cleverly-placed lines of code. A moment of fumbling around in his pockets led him to realize that he'd managed to leave his transit pass at the police station. Rather than return to get it, Bec kept his fingers crossed the entire way home that nobody would actually pull him aside to check.

His parents had both been frantic, cornering him in the kitchen for questioning. He'd done his best to shrug off their concern, mumbling something about a legal fund for wrongfully-arrested minors and an unfortunate case of mistaken identity. "It's over," he'd assured his mother before changing the topic, once more, to his sister's health.

-x-

Three minutes past midnight, he gave up on sleep and cracked open his bedroom window. Before proceeding any further in his escape attempt, Bec paused to listen, making sure it was safe. He could hear his father snoring down the hall, and his sister's stereo playing quietly through the house despite the blankets she shoved under her door to muffle the music. Other than those two sounds, all was quiet.

_Great, time to go. It's been a long day - I need to tinker with something. Maybe then I'll be able to sleep._

He leaned halfway out the window, twisting upwards to grip the eaves of the roof, pulling himself all the way out of his room. Hanging by his fingertips, he shut the window behind him by pressing with his knees against the glass pane and angling his body to slide it shut with a soft click. He knew from experience that if it were left open, somebody could notice the draft.

That taken care of, Becquerel let go of the eaves and dropped to the lawn below. Wringing his hands together to work out the pins and needles, Bec paused to take one last look at his family's home. All the windows were closed, and all the rooms were dark. It was peaceful.

Unbidden, he thought once more of Demia Carter. He wondered if her parents were asleep at this very moment, or if they were awake and trying to find their only daughter. _New Brunswick, so three hours ahead of us. There's not much you can do at three in the morning, but I don't think they'd be resting. _

Shaking his head as he set off at a loping pace across the front lawn, Bec tried once more to remind himself that this was not his problem to solve.

-x-

The parcel was waiting on the front step of his lab, sitting beneath two pieces of junk mail. Bec groaned, cursing the postman who consistently forgot to use the mailbox in the way it was intended.

The parcel, shoddily wrapped in brown paper and lacking a return address, bore no postmark. His name was printed in blocky capital letters along one edge of the package. It was a small and relatively flat box, stiff cardstock to protect its contents. _Likely a disc of some sort_, Becquerel surmised as he stooped to pick it up, leaving the junk mail where it lay on the doorstep. He had to use the lockpicks he kept under the front mat to jimmy his lab's door open - ever since one of his projects had exploded a few months back, the mechanism always jammed shut in humid weather. For some reason, he'd never gotten around to replacing it. Nor had he bothered to duplicate his keys. It didn't matter much, as it only took him a few minutes to pry his way inside even with the parcel tucked under one arm.

_Hope none of the neighbors are watching, because this would be hard to explain to the police. And that's the last thing I need. _

_Again._

It was odd, how quickly he'd stopped thinking of this place as his old home and began viewing it only as a place to keep his work.

Bec took the steps to the landing two at a time, ripping the brown paper away from the cardstock to free an unmarked disc from the package. _Maybe one of my forum friends burned me a mixtape?_ Becquerel paused on the threshold, spinning the disc for a moment between his thumb and forefinger. The grooves on the side of the disc caught the soft green and blue lights emanating from his lab, power lights and motion sensors reflecting back a multitude of colours.

His laptop was kept in a drawer underneath one of his benches. At one point he'd installed a safe in the corner to keep it safe, but the lock there had recently started to jam. After spending one particularly nerve wracking afternoon trying to free his laptop from the metal box, he'd stopped trusting the safe, deciding it was much safer to hide the device in plain sight. It was nestled now beside his dart gun, and he gingerly moved the tranquilizer out of the way as he lifted his laptop to set it on the bench.

After isolating his critical system files (just in case his friends weren't as cautious as they should be with their antivirus programs), Bec popped the disc into the player, and waited a moment for it to load.

-x-

The first time he watched the video, he had no idea what he was seeing.

-x-

_[After a moment of static, an image loads. The camera must be mounted in the cockpit of some vehicle, as the room in the video is half airplane and half commuter train. It hums a little, and though it has no windows it must be moving very fast. Smooth edges, soft lines, white lighting, grainy webcam image. I am there, seated before the camera, head tilted back; behind me, two strangers. No, not strangers - one of them is the girl from the photograph, tulle skirt and rainboots, her hands fluttering as she talks, her face earnest, expressive. And the other -_

_- I don't know who the other person is. Not much older than me, pale eyes, formal clothes, dark hair, stiff posture. Somebody off camera talks in a language I do not understand, and the stranger responds in kind. Harsh words. It escalates. I jump out of my chair. _

"_Technically, he's our hostage, so you negotiate with Miss Carter and myself, not Artemis!"_

_More words, and then we are falling. Somebody - is that me? did I make that sound? - screams. The stranger's face, close to the camera. He speaks quickly, calmly. English, this time._

"_Call you back."_

_The screen goes dark.]_

-x-

The second time he watched the video, Becquerel Jones remembered everything.

-x-

The third time he watched the video, Bec paused it in the moment before the shuttle began to crash. He reached forward with one fingertip, as though he could reach through the screen and touch the past.

_Demia._

How could he have forgotten? How could he have forgotten her?

-x-

After the fourth watch of the tape, Becquerel Jones knew exactly what he was going to do. He booted the disc from his laptop without bothering to properly eject it from the system. First thing in the morning, he'd destroy both laptop and disc. _Can't leave a trail for the LEP. _

Demia was dead. He knew that for sure - he raised a hand to his cheek, touching the place where she had kissed him goodbye.

Demia was dead. There was nothing to be done about that.

He'd forgotten. They'd made him forget. His head hurt.

Demia was dead, and he knew exactly who was to blame.

-x-

He worked through the shock of fresh memories, through a numbness coated with the threat of thick emotion. Fingers flying across his keyboard, he pulled up web browser windows; frantically, he dug through old folders and notebooks for any trace of useful information. It was frustrating work, as very little had survived the fairy's sweep of the lab. For most of it, he was starting from memory; other tasks had to be begun from scratch.

Only once did he pause, looking up over the lid of his laptop with unfocused eyes. Dawn's first light was spilling through the skylight, illuminating wires and circuit boards in a jumble on the workbench. For the first time in his life, the disorder troubled him. He saw again in his mind's eye the mess of torn-apart systems in a torn-apart shuttle - _panels hanging on loose hinges, bent latches jutting out at odd angles, pink rainboots treading on wires, one last terrified yelp as the shuttle wall ripped open, a blinding flare of blue light, the taste of bile in his throat -_

He shut his eyes tight, blocking the stale fear with a sea of black. When he looked down at the keyboard again, his hands were no longer shaking.

The next time somebody panicked, it was not going to be him.

-x-

_[I looked down at my hands for just a moment, one thumb tracing over the other to hide the fact that both were trembling. When I returned to watching Artemis, my voice came out hollow. "We're not on a first-name basis, Fowl. We are not friends."]_

-x-

**OUTBOX**:

Hello,

I've been following your blog for the last year or so, and I hope it's okay that I dug up your email address because I didn't want to post this as a public comment. The thing is, I think you may be onto something with the energy signature disturbances around your family's home, and I think this might be bigger than either of us know! Even if your older brother doesn't believe you about them, I definitely do.

Here: I've attached a bunch of satellite readings (please don't ask how I got my hands on them, since it's a very long and slightly illegal story!) for you to go through. They've been scrubbed from the official records, but they present a weird pattern, don't they? Do you think it could be related to what you're working on?

This could be seriously important, and I don't think I can get to the bottom of it alone! I'm looking forward to hearing back from you!

-Henri

-x-

**INBOX:**

Henri;

I think you could be right - these satellite numbers are pretty weird! Are you sure they're for real? They do confirm a bunch of my suspicions. I didn't really blog about it because it's kind of embarrassing, but I think my brother might've buried an entire cable line just to get me to stop poking around. I think he thinks I'm wasting my time, but you know what? Just between you and me, he's wrong, for once. There _is _something here.

I can feel it.

If you still want to help me find out what it is, that's okay. I've attached the readings I've taken around our home, and all the data does seem consistent. What's going on here? I hope we can figure it out! :)

Your friend,

Myles

-x-

**Author's Note:**

Winged and I have been working on the next episode, but since we're both in the middle of yet another round of papers and finals, we decided another webisode was in order. Oh, and kudos to everybody who suspected we weren't quite done with Bec yet! - Freud


	12. 203: Tweedious Tidings

EPISODE 2.03: TWEEDIOUS TIDINGS

_In which Christmas is ruined, the worst-case scenario game is played, and Tweedir finally makes a friend. _

—X—

**An excerpt from The Self-Published Memoirs of Professor Honkard D. Tweedir**

By this stage in my career, I was already an accomplished professor. I held prestigious degrees in several magical disciplines and had twice been presented awards for my studies into the _Serinus canaria. _Other fairies tend to retreat into their studies upon reaching such a high standing in the academic community; I, on the other hand, viewed it as my solemn duty to impart my wisdom upon the younger generation. Thus it was that, despite the fact that I had been awarded a sabbatical to concentrate upon my research, I did not entirely relinquish my role as a tenured instructor at Haven University.

The class was small for the large lecture hall, the students scattered amongst the chairs like sand pipers upon a prairie field. On this particular day in question, I was concluding a lecture on magical resonance when a most intriguing visitor stepped into my classroom. Roughly twice the height of the average fairy, with hair like a raven and the eyes of a white ibis, this was the infamous Artemis Fowl the Second. I had been given the untold pleasure of working with this human as library liaison since his appointment as LEPfoul consultant several months before, but this marked the first occasion I had seen him outside the confines of his offices.

I swelled with pride the instant he walked into my classroom yet, always the professional, I did not stop my lecture. As well — yes, I will admit — I was curious to learn what Artemis Fowl would make of my lecture material.

"And this is why you're not allowed to have birds in Haven," Fowl cut in at last. "Proximity to magic dampens their self-preservation instincts. As I'm sure your professor was _going to eventually tell you_, nobody knows why."

I was astonished. After listening to only a few minutes of my lecture, he had correctly interpreted the ultimate goal of it. "Well, I've already discussed many common theories and I was going to go over them once more to ensure maximum student retention. In addition, I had planned to fully explicate the interesting Canary Islands thought experiment — I'm sure we all know the one."

Fowl waved a hand airily, feigning disinterest. "It's not an interesting thought experiment. It's a simplistic thought experiment. And I believe your lecture was supposed to have concluded ten minutes ago."

He waited as my students hastily gathered together their belongings and departed from the hall. The buzz of young life absorbing knowledge has always spoken to me, endearing me to my students; I smiled hearteningly at each one as they passed. They were all too intimidated by my academic prowess to meet my eyes. Alas, one must try!

"I came in person because you were ignoring my emails," Fowl began once the door had swung shut behind the last student.

I clutched at my chest, insulted. My usual verbosity failed me. "Never!"

Fowl hastily backtracked. I could see the guilt in his eyes for even making such a suggestion. "And yet you continue to send me long emails even after I've told you that for the next week, I will not have access to technology."

Ah yes — I recalled to mind that barbarous human holiday that had been stolen and warped from its original fairy origins. "I would have assumed you would be above such things."

"Turns out I'm not," the human deftly replied. "Stop emailing me."

My dear friend, Doctor J. Argon, had once written a book about this particular Mud Man and often took great pleasure in bragging about this fact. Now, as Artemis Fowl the Second strode purposefully from the lecture hall, I had to use all my restraint to not send a message to Argon this very minute. Artemis Fowl had been in my classroom — had listened to my lecture — and had comprehended the lecture objective faster than any of my ordinary students. What a fast learner! What a fascinating character! Argon would be so very jealous.

—X—

**INBOX: **

Mud Boy,

Hey, remember when I told you not to do a thing and then you did it anyways and now there are consequences for your actions?

… Because word on the street is that you had to physically go and find Tweedir to tell him to actually stop emailing you for a week. And yet, I distinctly recall shooting you a couple of emails warning you against working with him. Funny coincidence, isn't it?

Cheerfully gloating,

Foaly

**OUTBOX: **

Foaly;

And here I thought we'd moved past getting excited over every single coincidence.

- A

**INBOX:**

Even better, you actually DO have access to your phone over Christmas! Ha! Call me when you need to take out a restraining order!

Foaly

—X—

Artemis rolled his eyes and slid his phone back into his pocket. "What was that, Beckett?"

His younger brother huffed impatiently. "_I said,_ you seem to make that face a lot when you're working."

"And what makes you presume I am working? There are a number of other people with whom I correspond."

Beckett raised his eyebrow skeptically. Myles, standing on a chair to better peer over Artemis's shoulder, explained, "Because you were using that other alphabet again. And muttering in your code-language about centaurs. You know if you're a spy, you can just tell us, right? I mean, we've figured most of it out already anyway. It explains everything! For instance, it's why you're not around a lot, and why you always wear suits, because that's what spies do. And it -"

"What does _centaur _actually mean?" interrupted Beckett, fidgeting a little in his determination to cut right to the truth. "The code word, I mean. We know what centaurs are, and that they're not real so you can't actually be talking to one."

That was the moment Artemis realized that at some point, his brothers had actually succeeded in translating Gnommish to the point that they could understand which word meant "centaur." They hadn't just determined the contextual gist of the word; they'd actually decoded the roots of the symbol to which the word corresponded. The fact that they assumed he was using the Gnommish alphabet to communicate in a second layer of code was both reassuring and frightening. On one hand, they still remained in the dark about the existence of the People; on the other, he could no longer rely on the confidentiality of his communications belowground. "Fine. You caught me. _Centaur _means that it's your turn to make the rounds."

He reached to propel Beckett towards the door, but the boy slipped out of reach just as Myles threw his weight against Artemis's shoulder. Artemis staggered and Myles hung on, arms wrapped around his brother's neck. His phone buzzed once more in his pocket. Artemis threw out a hand against the wall to catch himself. As though for good measure, the phone vibrated again.

"Enough, Foaly," he hissed, attempting to twist and deposit his brother back on the ground.

In his ear, Myles asked, "Is Foaly another code name?"

Artemis felt another hand against his side and realized that Beckett was making a grab for the phone in his pocket. "No —" he gasped, and attempted to swat the arm away. In doing so, he finally lost his balance. All three brothers landed in a heap.

Artemis sprang back to his feet faster than either twin had thought possible. After touching his pocket lightly to ensure his phone remained safe, he glared. It was the kind of look that sent interns scurrying for cover on an almost daily basis; Beckett and Myles just groaned in unison, knowing the game was up. "We'll both make the rounds," Myles volunteered sheepishly, taking Beckett's arm and turning to scurry from the room. After digging in his heels for a brief instant, Beckett gave in and followed.

Artemis breathed a sigh of relief as the glass door clicked shut behind them.

"You did several things wrong in that encounter," said an amused voice near the open window. "It shouldn't have taken you that long to shake them. Do you want to see the video playback? I can put it in slow motion, if you need. And loop it."

So much for relief. Artemis clenched his jaw. "Hello, Holly. The Ritual went well?"

"You know, I used to be able to go a decade at a shot without refilling my tank. Now it's every six months." The elf paused thoughtfully. "And somehow, this entire trip feels like it's been worth it."

"I'm sure it was the highlight of your night."

"Don't flatter yourself, Mud Boy. I got to go stargazing earlier. Anyways, just thought I'd check in before heading back belowground. Make sure you hadn't started any potentially world-ending crises in the last twelve hours."

Artemis made a point of checking the clock on his phone. "Eleven hours."

Holly winced. "Still an hour to go? Shall I just wait here until I hear the sirens?"

Artemis turned back towards the glass pane that looked out on the ballroom. "It's my mother's annual Christmas charity function. Whatever disaster is waiting to swoop down upon us, I'm sure it knows better than to interrupt." He stepped aside to allow Holly a full view of the room beyond the door. Guests in formal wear mingled together as waiters wove amongst them with trays of appetizers and champagne. The strains of classical music floated over the conversations, provided by a live string quartet in an alcove just off the main room.

"Angeline does know how to throw a party," admitted Holly, even though the lavishness of the entire affair left a faintly sour taste in her mouth.

"The twins are not fond of formality," Artemis admitted. "Myles came up with a rotation system to prevent them from both having to be inside the ballroom at all times, and I agreed to help them test it."

"You, not fond of mingling?" Her voice was thick with sarcasm. "I wouldn't have suspected."

"If you're implying that the inevitable gossip over my conduct for the past decade is something I'd prefer to avoid, you would be correct," said Artemis dryly, touching his phone once more. "People do tend to talk, and I'd rather —"

"Who are you talking to?" interrupted a small voice by the door. Artemis shut his mouth abruptly, turning away from Holly to address Myles, who had managed to slip away from Beckett's side in an attempt to talk to his older brother alone.

"My invisible friend," he replied immediately.

"But you don't look like you're wearing an earpiece."

"Of course I don't. A good spy never looks like they're wearing an earpiece."

Myles beamed. "But seriously, who were you talking to? Because I know you're not actually a spy. Well, Beckett thinks you're a spy, but he's seen too many movies. I think he just likes to imagine you trying to run away from explosions."

From the window came the sound of a muffled snort. On second thought, Artemis thought it might have been a sob. Either way, it was not appreciated.

The youngest Fowl pressed on. "This has something to do with the buried pipe, right? Well, not with the pipe itself, but with the weird energy readings around it. Although the fact that you buried a pipe in the first place does say a lot about exactly how little you think of my ability to reason things out, it doesn't actually explain the readings. You've never lied to me about anything before, and encouraged me in every other experiment I've run. What makes this one different?"

Artemis's thought process in the ensuing silence was rapid and impossible to fully transcribe, yet the moments after Myles' calculated guilt trip could accurately be summed up as follows:

1) _D'arvit_.

2) I have _not_ encouraged him in every experiment. I shut down the blowtorch incident last week, and put my foot down regarding his unfortunate scorpion obsession the week before that.

3) Myles has no way of knowing how much he's been lied to. That's the entire point of lying.

4) Neither of these would be helpful to point out right now.

5) _D'arvit! _

Then he realized that the profanities were not his own thoughts. Rather, Holly was swearing in the earpiece that he really was wearing. Due to the fact that her helmet had been sealed the entire time to prevent anyone else at the function from hearing her, it really was like he had a second voice in his head.

6) I would make an excellent spy.

7) That's also not very helpful right now.

8) _D'ARVIT! Artemis, DO something about your brother! He's a younger version of you and MAYBE not evil yet, so fix this NOW before it escalates!_

Artemis studied his younger brother closely, deliberating.

9) Holly is correct. This cannot escalate. Yet if I give my brother another story, it will only be a matter of time before he disproves it. And next time, he won't come to me for the truth. Lying is only effective if the other party believes you are honest. Again, that's the entire point of lying.

10) _D'arvit_.

Artemis opened his mouth to speak, and then hesitated. Frowning, he made a show of tapping the side of his leg four times. On the other end of the line came a heavy sigh, one last swear, and then two reluctant taps in return.

—X—

It was not often that I made the arduous trek from the University of Haven campus grounds to the Foul Team offices across the city. On this particular day, however, I felt it necessary. After all, Artemis Fowl the Second had taken the time to visit me personally in order to explain that he would be absent from his duties as the head of LEPfoul for the week. While he had made the journey under pretence of explaining his lack of technology, I read between the lines — so to speak — to understand the unspoken request for me to keep an eye on his interns while he was away.

From the instant I stepped across the threshold, it was clear to me that the office had fallen to shambles the instant the interns lost their leader. The employees were milling about without aim while various alert sounds went more or less unheeded. Barely had I entered the room when the projector on the far wall went up in a cloud of smoke. The entire room ducked low save for the female centaur with crimson hair who reared upon her hind legs. "Mine!" she declared boldly, and lobbed a small capsule into the heart of the flames. A geyser sprayed out across the office, drenching anything within range.

"Sass!" whined a nasal voice. I turned in search of the source. There, in the corner of the office, I spotted him: a young watersprite out of place in the land of the air-breathers. A literal fish out of water, the poor soul was encumbered by a set of bulky, bubbling gill tubes that hung about his neck like an odd sort of pipe-organ. Being a considerate gnome, I was careful not to allow my gaze to rest long on the suffering watersprite's obvious affliction. "Why'd you use one of those ones? Dodo ordered in the foamy fireshells last week, and now the neighbours - glub! - are going to be mad at us for raining on them again."

"They'll get over it," said the centaur with a proud toss of her mane. "Besides, I bet they'd be even angrier if we didn't put the fire out."

The entire room stilled for a moment, lost in contemplation over the consequences of allowing such a blaze to go untamed.

"New rule," suggested a timid dwarfess as she finally rose from behind a counter, "Whoever uses the water fireshells cleans up the mess?"

I decided that this would be an appropriate time to make my presence known. "An excellent suggestion," I said approvingly, "Although it raises the question of whether or not this would slow emergency response time. I presume these explosions are a common occurrence in this office?"

As one, the interns turned towards me. "Who's that?" asked the dwarfess.

The moment they became aware of my presence, both the centaur and the watersprite groaned in relief.

—X—

"Artemis isn't here," Sass said immediately. "So you can leave now."

"Yeah," added Caltrop. "Y-you can definitely leave."

Dodo looked between the two of them in surprise. "Please tell me he's not another intern." She secretly doubted her ability to make the pompous-looking gnome quit.

"Worse," muttered Caltrop. "He's another _consultant._ Where's — glub — Lucia when we need her?"

Tweedir appeared oblivious to their irritation. "It has come to my attention that you are without a leader in this office for the next week and have come to offer my services so that you might —"

"Hey now," interrupted Sass. "Holly's just gone for the day. She'll be back tomorrow."

Tweedir straightened his tie. "Artemis Fowl the Second came to me directly," he said, puffing with his own self-importance. "Now, tell me: What is it you do around here again?"

The interns collectively rolled their eyes, made the simultaneous decision to ignore him, and turned back to their tasks without another word.

—X—

Holly paused on the windowsill, looking over her shoulder once more at the Fowl brothers. Artemis had his back to her so she could not read his expression, but the tension in his posture was clear enough. Myles waited patiently, probably recognizing that his older brother had resigned himself to an explanation.

"You have to understand, Myles —" began Artemis, and Holly finally took her cue to leave.

She didn't go far, though. Activating her wings, Holly rose along the side of the building to find a perch on the roof. The sky was still bright with stars and she tipped her head back to admire them even as her mind was racing. She'd turned off her comm the instant she left the room — whatever Artemis intended to say to his brother, it was clear that she would be much better-off avoiding liability for it.

And then the sound of sirens brought her back to Earth. Holly straightened as, in her ear, the line crackled back to life.

"There's no chance that's an ambulance I hear outside, is there?" said Artemis. It wasn't actually a question.

Holly rose to her feet and pulled the switch on her wings, rising above the roof to see the approaching vehicles. "Definitely police. What did you do?"

There was a pause as Artemis considered the possibilities. Holly was not reassured. Finally, he said, "Nothing comes to mind. …No, Myles, something more important just came up. Can you wait, please? We'll finish this conversation later."

From Holly's viewpoint, she could see the officers striding towards the house. "Your family does associate with a lot of criminals. Could they be here for one of your guests?"

"Considering my luck?" responded Artemis. "Unless proven otherwise, we'll have to presume that —" He cut off then, and Holly heard him apologize to someone nearby as he moved past them. As the officers had disappeared into the manor by this point, there was nothing else for Holly to watch from above. She lowered the throttle on her wings and dropped down once again. At the same time, she was putting a call out on a second line.

Foaly picked up so quickly, his hand must have been hovering over the button. "I know where you are and I was just about to call. What happened and how long do we have until the world explodes?"

"Relax, it's probably a misunderstanding," Holly said, even though she barely believed this herself.

The screen on her visor flicked on to show a copy of the arrest warrant.

"Oh," sighed Holly. "Oh no."

—X—

"What do you mean he's been arrested?" Dodo asked in confusion.

On the other end of the video call, Foaly threw his hands up in dismay. "I mean I am staring at a police car video feed right now. He's been put in the back of the car and everything. What has your department done recently that might have been viewed as illegal? I'm not judging you, per say, but any excuse to pull him in for questioning would have done it."

"No, you don't g-get it," glubbed Caltrop, folding his arms indignantly across his chest. "We're very, very careful to not be traced." If LEPfoul had been in full communication with the main body of the LEP, Caltrop would likely have pointed out that if they were able to evade the detection of the Changelings with whom they crossed paths, there was no way a local precinct would have caught any of their trails. Instead, he just scowled.

"Yeah, dude. I seriously can't see anything from our end that woulda caused this one. Whatever's going down is _so _not on us!"

"Wait," said Foaly, growing still. "In the background - am I hearing _me?"_

Into the view of the frame slid Icky. His radio-shaped console box had been mounted on a series of rails that ran around the office's ceiling, allowing him free movement between workstations. "Hey dude! I've missed seeing you around, bro!"

"Why are you _there?"_ Foaly asked in horror. Then something else sank in. "Wait - _they gave you a track?"_ His eyes flickered, landing on Dodo. _"You gave him a track!?" _

"He asked politely, and we're going to load his box up with firefighting foam caps so -" Dodo began, before Foaly cut her off.

"I've said no to a track for years! When did this happen! Did you just move over there today? Sass!"

"Dude, of course not!" Icky protested, insulted. "I've been here for ages. This is my home. My second home. I copied myself onto a new harddrive, dude, so I could still hang out with you back at your place. Never know what you might need a babysitter on short notice, right? Let me tell you, they need a babysitter over here all right. Have you met some of these interns? Duuuuuude. Oh - and by the way, I totally chose my own name! You can call me Icarus!"

"_You chose a -!? Sass!" _

"You said Uncle Foaly gave you permission to come over here!" protested Sass, turning to Icky with a stomp of her foot. "You lied!"

"My AI is capable of lying?" said Foaly, flabbergasted. A moment later, the implications of this sank in and he slumped in his chair, wiping a tear of pride from his eye. "I built an AI that's chosen a name, and is capable of lying."

"They grow up so fast," muttered Sass, casting Icarus a dirty look.

—X—

Interpol agent Warren Freyne had, admittedly, not been assigned to the Fowl case for very long. It was a file with a reputation that preceded it; despite recent years of inactivity, it was notorious for causing a high burn-out rate amongst the hapless agents set in charge of it. Some even whispered that it was cursed. Either way, association with the case generally did not bode well for a young, tenacious agent's future career prospects.

Of course, as he determinedly chewed through a piece of the stringiest turkey he had ever had the misfortune of crossing paths with, the distant future was the farthest thing possible from Warren's mind. All he cared about was getting through this holiday meal - and the accompanying social interaction - intact.

All that changed the moment his phone went off. Freyne glanced down at the screen, praying for anything that would help him avoid another story regarding his mother-in-law's bunions. Yet, even in his desperation, it took a moment for the contents of the alert to sink in. Fingers trembling, he slid his phone back into his pocket and adjusted his tie. He looked around the table with wide eyes before a wild smile spread across his face.

"Warren?" asked his mother-in-law. "What are you smiling about over there?"

"Definitely _not_ your corns," he proclaimed. He slammed both hands against the table, his thumb catching the rim of his plate to send an avalanche of gravy and mashed potatoes cascading into his mother-in-law's lap. "You are a _horrible _shrew of a woman, and I am leaving! Hold. My. Calls!"

"Warren!" exclaimed his horrified wife.

"I'm going to Ireland!" he shouted, already halfway to the door. "Somebody FINALLY brought in the Fowl kid. Petty theft, if you'd believe it! There _is _a god! Merry Christmas to me!"

—X—

When Holly finally caught up to Artemis, he was waiting in one of the local jail's intake cells. His peaceful manner was at odds with the rest of the inmates, who had worked themselves up into a frenzy. The guards in the hall were nervously clutching their weapons, prepared to react should the situation result in a riot.

Holly dropped down on the bench beside him and tapped his arm four times to let him know she was there. Artemis slid his hand to the right to tap twice in response.

"Every now and then, I remember why people keep trying to kill you," Holly said, regarding the scene unfolding before them. "At least there aren't any goblins spitting fire yet."

"Yet?"

"It's my job to think of the worst case scenarios. Not to mention, worst case scenarios are an occupational hazard since I met you."

Artemis's mouth twitched and he nodded toward an air conditioning unit on the far wall. "If the goblins were smart, they would aim there."

"But they're not. They're goblins."

"Which means there is still a high chance of a fireball hitting an air vent by accident. The holding cell has been fireproofed but the air ducts lead towards parts of the building that are not. It'd take an unlucky ricochet, but we are talking worst-case scenarios, so let us assume the fireball makes it through the vent. The fire alarm would go off, prompting an evacuation. By that time, the south-west hallway would already be impassible, forcing a detour through the west courtyard of the building."

Holly winced. "Harder to keep order in an open space."

"Especially with goblins around. It'd be chaos."

She paused to consider the implications. "It sounds like you're planning a breakout," said Holly suspiciously.

"I have no need to _plan_ one," Artemis responded seriously, raising an eyebrow as though insulted that she would even imply that he would need to put more than thirty seconds of forethought into the matter. "But the evidence against me is all circumstantial. As it stands, I can't be formally charged. So long as I play by the book, they cannot hold me for anything."

Holly studied his face before concluding that he was not actually planning anything else. "So why the riot?"

"I thought we might want to talk without notice. Clearly I was correct."

"So you started a riot?"

"I only said three words the entire time I've been here," he protested.

Holly narrowed her eyes. "Which words?"

He told her. Holly was less than impressed. "Think about what you've done," she sighed.

"Oh, believe me, I have. I've also considered what I have not done, which brings me back to the reason I'm here. I assume your presence here means you have found some new lead into why someone would choose to frame me for something as petty as -" His face twisted scornfully, "Home robbery."

Rather than respond, Holly grabbed Artemis's shoulder and threw him to the ground — a motion that would have looked suspicious had anyone been watching. Luckily, everyone was busy paying attention to the fact that the air conditioning unit had just been pried from the wall by a team of three particularly determined inmates. Artemis looked back over his shoulder at the section of the bench where he had been sitting a moment before. The spot was now occupied with the smashed remains of the unit.

"A home without anything worth stealing, that is," he added after a moment's thought as guards finally began to involve themselves in the situation inside the holding cell. "Otherwise the motivations might be more clear."

Holly made a sound of agreement. "We think someone's trying to get you out of the way — who or why, we don't know yet. The Butlers are back at the manor keeping an eye on the systems should anyone attempt to hack in through the security. The interns are attempting to trace the origin of the evidence against you."

A loud whistle pierced the air. Both Holly and Artemis winced.

"And you came here," observed Artemis. "Thank you."

Holly brushed it off. "Of course, even that is not the worst case scenario. Guess what would be waiting in the west courtyard of the police station?"

"Giant squid? Trolls? Crickets?"

"Worse. Lucia."

—X—

The hapless interns were huddled in a knot, confiding with each other in hushed tones when I reentered the room. I caught strains of the vicious gossip the instant I drew near — accusations of illegal activities and scandal. What could possibly be of such importance that these employees should deem it necessary to deviate from their regular work routines? Very little, I believed. Doubtless, I told myself, these interns were merely wasting time under the excuse that their supervisor was still aboveground under pretence of completing the Ritual even as Artemis Fowl the Second was out of the office.

"What are we discussing?" I inquired helpfully as I drew near to the group. The interns looked up, craning their necks towards me in unison like a flamboyance of startled flamingoes.

"Nothing," proclaimed the water-sprite, visibly struggling to make his voice heard amidst the monstrous tubes that encircled his face.

"Absolutely nothing," agreed the dwarfess, nervously looking about the room as though frightened of the repercussions that might befall her were she to admit to a wrongdoing.

Overhead, there came the sound of whirring rotors and mechanical machinery. When I raised my head, it was to see a miniature silver box slide towards me along a track that had been set in the ceiling. Green lights flickered in a show of excitement. A thrill of my own tickled my spine for this - _this_ was the artificial intelligence I had heard so much about. "Dudes," exclaimed a voice that I recognized as the particular strains associated with the Lower Elements Police's well-known centaur technologist, yet with a hint of artificiality. "I've been crunching the numbers and running double checks through all our stuff. Like, when we were talking to Foaly earlier we were totally winging it and covering each other's backs and that was great — but there's actually _no way_ Fowl was arrested because of something we did. So we're totally in the clear! …Also totally in the dark on this one."

The water-sprite heaved a dejected sigh, as though this latest misfortune was too much for his already traumatic existence to bear. "Well, you tried. Thanks, Icky!"

I bristled with indignation for the insulting name the intern had bestowed upon this brilliant machine. Yet the artificial intelligence merely carried on along its track, oblivious to the great injustice that had befallen it — ah, to bear an artificial heart impervious to the whims and slanders of the cruel world and those that inhabit it!

Yet, more momentous matters cried piteously for my attention. "Artemis Fowl the Second has been arrested?" Oh, horror beyond all previously known horrors! What trouble had befallen Foul Team's courageous and brilliant leader to lead him to enemy ground?

It was at that time that another centaur trotted boldly into the room. "It's _raining_ on our _ceiling_," he declared loudly. "Again." This must have been the much-reviled head of the advertising agency that continued to reside in the office suite one floor below our very feet.

The Foul Team's own centaur placed her hands upon her hips. "Well, we're in the middle of something that's _actually _important. Sorry for your ceiling. _Dude._" Yet something told me she felt nothing akin to remorse.

"Oh yes," responded the stranger angrily. "I heard something about that. Artemis Fowl in jail? About time."

And then the fiery equine addressed the head of the advertising company, declaring in a strong voice, "I bet you he's innocent." A hush fell upon the room, my own breath arrested by the shock of this development. "I bet you a canary he's innocent."

She glared about the room as though daring any one of us to disagree. The silence hung heavy. Then, with a deep breath, the head of advertisement threw his fist down upon the table. He said, in a voice hard and cold as ice, "Centaur, one of our pixies brought a hamster to work this morning. You're on."

Within minutes, a friendly rivalry had been turned into a harsh and divisive war. Sass, suddenly our brave and defiant leader against all the odds, flipped her hair in a carefully dismissive motion. "Come on," she told us briefly eyes scanning the advertising agency's office with scorn. "Let's roll." And though we had nowhere to go, we turned as one away from the intruder and returned to the task at hand.

"Sass," said the dwarfess with an anxious glance over her shoulder, "You just bet our canary. That's a terrible idea. That's the worst idea I've ever heard!"

The poor dear must have suffered from a weakness of the constitution, for the current drama seemed to be tearing her apart. I reached out and pressed my hand upon her shoulder in comfort. "My dear, all will be well. I promise you now that I shall remain on these premises until this matter is resolved. You will not endure this trial alone."

"Actually, I've got to go," said the dwarf, sidestepping my outstretched arm. With no further ceremony she scurried from the room, like a mother hen attempting to find a more secluded place in which to mourn her fallen kin.

—X—

Artemis raised an eyebrow when he saw who walked into the interrogation room. "And here I was hoping my Interpol file had gone dormant."

The agent paused, still in the process of pulling his badge from his jacket pocket. "Well, it did for six months. We're kind of curious about that." He frowned. "Wait, did someone tell you I was coming? Because I didn't even know I was coming here until about three hours ago."

Artemis merely folded his hands upon the table. "No, nobody told me. Welcome, Agent Freyne."

The man blinked, obviously reassessing the pale young man on the other side of the table. Even though Artemis clearly already knew both his name and credentials, he slid the badge across the table for inspection anyways. Fowl ignored it.

Freyne finally took a seat, leaning forward in an attempt at friendly conversation. "This is a first for me. Our organization is usually a little more careful with our identities."

"Well, you know a lot about me. I thought we should be on equal footing."

"I've been on this case less than a year!"

Artemis smirked. "Don't exaggerate. You've been on this case for three and a half months, though I suppose some slight congratulations are in order as you've already outlasted your predecessor by seventeen days. Do you have the time?"

"Pardon?"

Just like that, his grin disappeared. "The time."

"Oh." Freyne raised his wrist reluctantly to examine his watch. "Eighteen minutes past midnight."

"Accounting for time zones, you have now outlasted your predecessor by seventeen days, five hours, and thirty-two minutes." He tilted his head to the side, judging. "Well, I suppose you must be giving it your best effort." Artemis raised his eyebrow and gave Freyne a pointed look, as though suggesting Freyne had been slacking on the case.

The agent bristled. "I was hoping this didn't have to be hostile and we could just talk. You and I both know you haven't been charged with anything. This isn't an interrogation, just a chat."

Artemis looked pointedly about the interrogation room of the police station and then spread his hands wide. "Chat away."

Despite all that he had been warned, the Interpol agent was still taken a little off-guard. "Just like that?"

"Agent Freyne, I am sure you have been over every element of my files with the finest-toothed comb you can muster. As a result, you must have concluded by now that I have nothing to hide," said Artemis, the smirk returning once more to his face. "Unless you think you failed to do a thorough enough job?"

"Fine. Let's start with something easy. How did you restore your family's fortune?"

"I kidnapped a leprechaun."

"Er - where did you go when you disappeared for three years?"

"I decided to step outside the timestream for a bit."

"Um. What about those six months right after the Techno-Crash. Where were you then?"

"Oh. I died, decided I didn't like it, and came back again."

Warren Freyne set both hands down upon the table, palms open and fingers spread. He slowly slid his chair back across the tiled floor, stood stiffly, and turned away. He paced the room once to compose himself, took a deep breath, and then sat down at the table once more.

Artemis was still smirking. "Going to try this again, are we? Take all the time you need. Seventeen days, five hours, and thirty-five minutes. I'm sure you're proud of yourself."

—X—

I noticed the water-sprite had returned to his desk, anxiously inputting variables into the system as his unfortunate breathing apparatus clunked away. I approached him immediately to offer what empathy I could. "Brave sprite, I applaud your efforts."

The water-sprite twisted about in his chair, frowning. Perhaps he was unused to such sympathy. "S-sorry?"

"No, my boy — don't apologize for your affliction! Your courage in the face of such crippling adversity is truly inspiring. I cannot imagine what toll it would take upon my psyche to live each day one clogged tube away from suffocation."

"Thanks for reminding me that I could — glub — die at any minute," he responded, failing to make eye contact. "Y'know, I'm, uh, gonna see where Dodo got to." And without another word, the poor soul was gone.

—X—

Freyne had been on the Fowl case for seventeen days, eight hours, and fifty-five minutes when he finally left the room to fetch a coffee. Funnily enough, he did not offer Artemis anything.

No sooner had he left the room than Artemis let his head drop, massaging his forehead with his fingertips in order to shield his face from the cameras. "Freyne is more determined than I expected," he whispered. "Since I'm not going to be allowed to leave until he decides he's done, it might be time for Plan B."

"Tired?" Holly smirked from her vantage point in the room behind the one-way mirror. "I thought you said you had nothing to hide. But really, you played by the book for longer than I expected."

"Plan B, Holly," he repeated tiredly.

"Fine," she said, already in the progress of calling in reinforcements. "By the way, I'm starting to see why you've forced so many psychiatrists into retirement. Freyne might not recover from this one."

Artemis sighed. "If I were trying to break him, believe me: you'd know."

—X—

No sooner had Freyne set his coffee upon the table than the door to the room opened to reveal a young woman dressed in evening wear and clutching a clipboard. Heels clicking as she entered the room without invitation, she strode straight towards the table, picked up the coffee, and threw it into the trash.

"Hey," protested Freyne. "I just got that."

"So get another. I need to speak to my client." She flicked out a business card. "Minerva Paradizo. I'm his legal council."

The agent examined the words on the card in confusion. "You're too young to be licensed."

"Oh? Tell that to my law degree." She tapped one toe impatiently and made a dismissive hand wave. Freyne made a motion towards the trash as though hoping to retrieve his coffee before he reluctantly allowed himself to be shooed from the room.

The door clicked shut and Minerva lowered herself into the chair opposite Artemis. "You look awful."

"Law degree?" he asked in response.

"After the situation in Denver, I decided to set aside a weekend." She set the clipboard down before her. "You're welcome for that, by the way."

Artemis shrugged. "I meant to thank you at the charity function. Then I was arrested."

"Really. Because I thought you were using your brothers as an excuse to hide in an alcove."

"Well, it would be a shame to be stood up," he said pointedly.

"Are we getting into _that_ now? Because _technically_, you stood me up for three years."

"That doesn't count," he said immediately. "It was a busy day for me."

"Yes, sometimes people have those. In any case, there are three steps to get you out of here. First, say this." She jabbed at the paper on the clipboard between them.

Artemis held up a hand. "Hold on. I don't actually need legal counsel. I just need it to appear as though I have some."

Minerva stared at him steadily for a minute and then jabbed the paper again. "Second, cite this section of the criminal code."

"Minerva."

A third jab at the paper. From between clenched teeth, she continued, "Third. Shut up and give your most angelic smile."

Artemis almost succumbed to the temptation to roll his eyes. "Thanks for the advice. I assure you, I can handle it from here."

—X—

There before me stood a strange sight: a small yet fearsome beast barring his teeth from within a metal-framed cage. It was ferocious, with eyes that glittered intelligently and fur that shone golden in the fluorescent light of the office.

"But what creature is that?" I asked, and though I regarded this beast in horror, I could not hide the awe in my voice.

"Huh?" the centaur turned her gaze upon me and shrugged effortlessly. "Oh, the hamster? Fowl's out, he was innocent. We won the bet."

—X—

"They're harmless," Sass repeated, sighing loudly. "Come down from that desk."

Tweedir refused to budge.

"No, seriously, dude," said a passing Icarus. "There's only one feral creature that's gonna attack you in this office - well, two if you count dear cousin Sass - and in either case, you'll wanna be cowering under the desk, not on top of it."

Sass rolled her eyes, already trotting to the door. Ten minutes earlier Caltrop had texted her with the name of the coffee shop where he and Dodo had spent the past few hours, and - now that the office's newest pet was secure in his cage on her desk - decided it was past time to join them.

—X—

Holly was watching the stars again when Artemis joined her on the pavement outside the precinct. The light of the sun was just beginning to brighten the horizon, the stars above fading from sight.

"That bright one is actually a planet," he said quietly.

"I know," the elf replied, turning to him. "I took a course. And you look exhausted."

He gave a tired smile. "I know you did. And Minerva said so, too."

"At this point, I actually have to ask: I'm never going to find out what happened between you two, am I? Given the hostility in that room, I wouldn't have expected her to show up to bail you out."

Artemis nearly shrugged. "Probably not, no. And it's in the past. We've just talked about it and agreed that a good grudge is too entertaining to completely let go."

—X—

The office was devoid of any presence despite my own, and I was just beginning to suspect that it would soon be time for my departure when a timid young elf poked her head into the room. Her face creased with uncertainty as she peered through the dim shadows of the unoccupied space. When her eyes alighted upon me, relief flooded her expression and she tread forward with a renewed spring to her step.

"Hello," she greeted me, attempting to juggle a bundle of what I presumed to be personalized office supplies. "This is LEPfoul, right?"

"You are correct," I told her magnanimously. "Salutations and welcome to the Foul Team."

She blushed demurely and hesitated. "Should I just - put my stuff down anywhere? Or is there a special desk for new interns?"

It had only taken me a single day to assimilate entirely into the Foul Team to the point where they trusted me implicitly to run their office. I instructed the dear elf to take possession of the desk nearest to the door. After all, with the edition of the young elf, Ms. Feldspar would no longer be the newest intern on the team and therefore, would be able to upgrade to a new desk.

She had barely placed the bundle of possessions upon the surface of the desk when a glorious trill filled the air. Just as every cup of coffee holds its own aroma, so does every bird carry its own song. This one was powerful yet distinct with a bold finish and a hint of spice. No fading or warbling here. This call belonged to a bird who knew full well the noble spirit that soared within her heart.

I raised my arm in anticipation and whistled in response. When the yellow bird wheeled about the corner, the elf flinched. I held steady and whistled once more.

"Is that _safe?_" the elf whimpered, ducking behind her newly acquired desk. There was no time for a response. The canary was circling above me, her joyous cries echoing through the office. I whistled a third time in response and, at last, she alighted upon my arm.

"Wow," whispered the elf. "I'd heard horror stories about that bird. I guess she isn't as bad as everyone says."

I stroked the canary's feathers, admiring their pure colour. "My dear, I have spent several decades studying the _Serinus canaria._ They are a gorgeous species more in tune with the natural world and their own instincts than any other bird on the planet. One merely needs to understand them in order to properly communicate."

"I heard that bird shut down Police Plaza for three days, and she _wasn't even there._ I heard that bird took on a troll — _and lived!" _

I scratched the bird's plumage lovingly. "I believe the records say it was an entire colony of trolls."

—X—

Holly was exhausted by the time she arrived back in her apartment, as the only sleep she'd gotten in the past twenty-four hours had been the brief doze she'd caught while waiting in the shuttle port before returning belowground. Walking into the empty apartment felt strange, and she tensed for a moment before realizing that she simply was unused to returning from the shuttleport alone. Artemis, unsurprisingly, had elected to remain aboveground for the remainder of the holidays in an attempt to set the rest of his family at ease. As they had expected, somebody had attempted to access his databases while he was in the precinct — yet with the interns having fled the office, nobody had caught the alert in time to properly trace it to a source. That particular mystery, for now, would have to go unsolved.

She dropped her bag heavily on one of the kitchen chairs, and paused. There on the table, closest to the chair where she always set her bag, was a small golden gift box. Having just returned from a situation with so many loose ends, Holly was instantly suspicious. Her hand had fallen to her neutrino before she saw the note with her name written in Artemis's hand beside the box; even so, she hesitated before peering closer.

_Holly,_ read the note, _Given the last twenty-four hours, I understand that your first instinct will be to shoot this box. Please don't. Regards, Artemis. _

She flicked the safety back on and used the tip of the gun to prod the lid open.

And then the room filled with stars.

Holly's jaw dropped. She whirled about, catching sight of familiar constellations and — there, the bright planet that Artemis had pointed out just that morning. The stars were suspended in the air around her, painted across the ceiling, and draped over all four walls. The elf even thought she could see the occasional cloud drifting across the room, propelled by an imaginary atmosphere. Holly extended an arm through the nearest nebula, watching as the stars danced across her skin. Finally it occurred to her to peer back down; inside the gift box, a tiny metal device hummed happily away. It should have been physically impossible for it to emit enough light to fill the entire kitchen from its recessed vantage point — yet somehow, it did. Curious, she held a hand over the box. The kitchen immediately dimmed, though the occasional star still slipped through the cracks between her fingers.

The moment she withdrew her hand once more, the room again burst into light.

—X—

Artemis answered on the first ring. "Back home?"

"I have questions," Holly began immediately. "First off: Who did you get to break into my apartment?"

He grinned. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Why do you always assume I am planning to either break in or out of my current location?"

"Because usually you are. Do I have to worry about Mulch walking in at odd hours now?"

"No more than he did before," Artemis assured her. "How do you like the stars?"

Holly raised her head. "Technically, I'm looking at a planet right now."

From his room in Ireland, Artemis looked out the window at the evening sky. "Excellent. So am I."

—X—

**Author's Note:**

The Christmas episode has been in the Foul Team plan from the very start — a lot of television shows have holiday-themed episodes so we thought it would be fun to include one here. We didn't exactly plan for it to land at the beginning of July, though! Not to mention, Christmas is totally the anniversary of Artemis and Holly's first meeting. We'll leave it up to you whether the box at the end was a Christmas present, another apology, or both. - Winged

If you were at all curious, "powerful yet distinct with a bold finish and a hint of spice" is almost word-for-word the description that Starbucks uses for its holiday roast of coffee. Happy Christmas-in-July, everyone! -Freud

Oh, also: We thought it would be hilarious to showcase the interns from Tweedir's point of view. I have since discovered that I have a love-hate relationship with his voice. NEVER AGAIN, Freud. NEVER. AGAIN. - Winged

Agreed, if only for the sake of your own sanity. Winged, you still have a twitch. - Freud


End file.
